Every Five Minutes

, , , , , , | Working | September 25, 2017

(I am working in the drive-thru. It is a very busy Friday night during dinner rush, and it also happens to be a payday. This is before the proliferation of debit cards, so we only accept cash, and four out of five customers are paying with twenty dollar bills from their fresh paychecks. My drawer is running low of small bills to make change with.)

Me: “Hey, when you get a chance I need fives; they keep paying with twenties and I am running low on bills for change.”

Manager: “Okay, give me a minute.”

(The drive-thru line is wrapped around the building, and there is a steady stream of customers at the counter as well, but she manages to deliver some fives to me relatively quickly. However…)

Me: “Only 4 fives?”

Manager: “You don’t need any more than that.”

(The next two cars in line both order a single value meal, costing around six dollars each, and each pays with a twenty. After taking both payments, I make a new request for fives.)

Manager: “But I just gave you some a minute ago!”

Me: “And I used them to make change for two cars, and now I’m out of them again.”

(She returned another minute later with another 4 five dollar bills, and the cycle repeated where I needed more fives after a handful of cars. After yet another request for fives came in that five-minute period, she got the hint and came back with a hundred dollars worth of fives, ensuring that I would have enough change in reserve for the remainder of the dinner rush.)

Don’t Worry, Your Order Will Be Apples

, , , , , | Right | September 25, 2017

(We sell squeezable pouches of applesauce, but usually only with our kids’ meals as a side. As I’m reading back a woman’s order, she decides she wants to add just one more thing.)

Me: “Can I get you anything else tonight?”

Customer: “Actually, would you mind adding some applesauce, please? That’ll be all.”

Me: “All right.”

(I start searching the order screen for how I can just put a pouch of applesauce; I look through sides, extras, value menus…)

Customer: “Hello?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry; it’ll just be one moment.”

(Finally, I find a button that says “substitute applesauce,” and go with that. Unfortunately, the system thinks I’m trying to substitute a side for applesauce, so on the screen it puts the last item that the lady ordered, which happens to be iced coffee, with a plus sign and applesauce.)

Customer: “It’s not showing a charge for the applesauce.”

Me: “That’s because I had to put it in as an add on.”

Customer: “But I don’t want it with my coffee. I just want one of those pouches y’all have.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry; that’s just the only way I could put it in the system.”

Customer: *pauses* “It won’t be in my coffee, right?”

Me: *looking out the corner of my eye, as I hear my manager laughing, trying not to laugh myself* “I promise there won’t be any applesauce in your iced coffee.”

Cents-less Mathematics

, , , , , , | Working | September 24, 2017

(I am working at a sandwich shop part time, and having been there longer than most of the other staff, the general manager trusts me to know all of the cash register balancing procedures, and even train new managers, even though I don’t have the clearance to do the steps myself. A sandwich costs $7. Chips alone cost $1.50, and soda alone costs $2. Chips and drink combo added to the meal costs $2.50. I accidentally ring a guy up for the sandwich and his chips, but forget to hand him a cup and ring him out for a drink. [We were chatting, and we got distracted.] Rather than swipe his credit card again, he has a dollar ready in-hand, but in order to finish the transaction I need a manager override, which requires the manager to open the drawer with a fingerprint scanner. [Welcome to the future, guys.] I call over the manager on duty, a new hire, and explain the situation.)

Me: “He wants to add a drink to make it a meal, so he owes us a dollar for the cup. All we have to do is open a manager override, do a price override so the soda costs $1 instead of $2, and in the manager notes select ‘Customer Satisfaction.’”

Manager On Duty: *brushes me off* “I’ve got this.” *to the customer* “Sir, I need your credit card.”

(She swipes his card, refunds the whole transaction, swipes his card again, and charges the total of the chips and the sandwich. Then she swipes his card again to refund the order, leaves to grab a calculator, adds a bunch of numbers together, rings up the order with the sandwich and chips again, and stares, dumbfounded, at the computer. The whole process takes about five minutes. All the while, the customer and I are just staring at each other and at her in silence.)

Me: “[Manager], the difference is one dollar—”

Manager On Duty: “I said I got this. Uh… that will be forty cents, please.”

(The customer hands her his dollar and gets sixty cents back in change.)

Me: “Why did you–“

Manager On Duty: *waving her hand dismissively* “You just don’t get it. It’s simple math. I’ll explain it later.”

(She never did explain it…)

Recovering One Nugget At A Time

, , , , , , | Hopeless | September 22, 2017

(My brother is getting surgery since he broke his collarbone, and he requests to have a burger and chicken nuggets when he wakes. I go to get some near the end of the surgery.)

Cashier: “Hello. Welcome to [Fast Food Place]; how may I help you?

Me: “Hi, I would like a [burger], an order of five chicken nuggets, and a small fry.”

(The cashier nods and I pay and wait for my order. When they call my number, I am confused to find ten chicken nuggets squeezed into a five nugget box, as well as a large fry.)

Me: *goes back to cashier* “I think you may have confused my order and—” *giggling a little* “—there’s ten chicken nuggets in here and I ordered five.”

(I figure the fry is a mistake, but that the chicken nuggets mean someone is really stupid or really nice.)

Manager: *coming up behind the cashier* “Yes, I saw your hospital visitor tag, and you also seemed to look stressed, so I figured you were having a bad day and told them to give you extra. My best wishes to whoever is in the hospital. Have a good day, ma’am.”

(I smiled at them and thanked them numerous times before returning to my brother. He didn’t want the [burger] or chicken nuggets since he was feeling sick from the anaesthesia, but he ate every last fry and I shared the chicken nuggets with his nurse. Sometimes people do things for a reason and it’s not a mistake.)

About A Foot Away From Total Meltdown

, , , | Working | September 22, 2017

(I am standing in line at a sandwich shop.)

Worker: “Hi. Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, please. Can I get a foot-long Reuben sandwich?”

Worker: “Do you want a six-inch or twelve-inch?”

(The customer and I both look at her; I figure she just wasn’t paying attention.)

Customer: “A foot-long.”

Worker: “Okay, a six-inch or a twelve-inch?”

Customer: “A foot-long means twelve-inch.”

(She just looked blankly at him and got the bread out. The man was very polite and understanding with her. Someone else helped me, and the last time I looked, she only had bread cut and had no idea what she was supposed to do next. I wonder how long it was before he got his lunch?)

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