It’s lunchtime and I’m going through a popular fast food drive-thru with my two small kids. I’m from out of town and we’re trying to head home, so fast food is the best option for us. I order, and the girl confirms my order and has me pull forward. Judging by the voice, it’s the same person who took my order.

Employee: “Hi there! Your total is $11.74.”

I hand over my card. The employee stares at my card in her hand for a moment.

Employee: “Oh, did they not tell you we can’t take this right now?”

I’m confused because I know she took my order, so she was the one who didn’t tell me. I also know there was no sign by the speaker or menu saying that they aren’t accepting cards.

Me: “Um, no?”

Employee: “Do you have another way to pay?”

I’m completely thrown off, but I’m trying to be polite.

Me: “I don’t have that much cash. Er… My bank doesn’t have a branch here, so I’ll have to figure it out. I’ll have to come back.”

Employee: “Do you want us to hold your order for you? I can have them hold your food at the counter inside.”

I’d rather just reorder to ensure I get fresh food.

Me: “Uh… No, that’s okay. I’m not sure how long it will take for me to come back. Thanks.”

Employee: “Oh, okay.” 

Her tone of voice, while not rude, made it clear she was done speaking with me. I decided not to go back and just got food elsewhere since she didn’t apologize for the situation at all. Plus, I didn’t want to have to pay an ATM fee anywhere or have to get out of the car with a two- and three-year-old.

I’m pretty sure the person in line ahead of me paid with a card, but maybe it was a gift card? It felt weird to me, almost as if she were making an excuse not to accept my card. It’s a decent-sized city, so it’s not like seeing an out-of-town debit card would be a reason to deny my card.

Me: “Hi, what would you like?”

Customer: “I want a meal with large fries and a drink.”

Me: “Which burger would you like?”

Customer: “No, I don’t want a burger.”

Me: “Then I can’t give you a meal.”

Customer: “But I want a burger meal with fries and drink.”

Me: “Okay, so, what burger do you want?”

Customer: “No, no, no! I don’t want a burger!”

Me: “So, you’re saying you want a burger meal without the burger?”

Customer: “Yes! Meal with drink and fries.”

Me: “Well, okay, then. That’s not a meal, though, just for future reference.”

I work in a self-serve ice cream store. We have fifteen flavors that are swapped out every two weeks. They all have somewhat different names; i.e. we don’t have “vanilla,” but we have “Tahitian vanilla,” which tastes identical to regular vanilla. We also do samples for customers who are indecisive. An older man walks into the store, alone.

Me: “Good morning, sir! Welcome to [Business]!”

Customer: “Mornin.’”

I see him carefully observing all of the signs, toppings, and flavors we have, which is usually a sign that they have never been here before.

Me: “Sir, have you ever been here before?”

Customer: “Nope.”

Me: “Oh, well, let me come around to the front and give you an explanation!”

I go through the entire spiel and once I’m done, I notice him take a self-serve bowl.

Me: “Can I get you any samples, sir?”

Customer: “Do you have any chocolate? My wife sent me here and she wants chocolate.”

Me: “Yep, we have ‘triple chocolate’ in the first machine. It’s really yummy.”

Customer: “No! That’s not what I asked for! She wants just chocolate!”

Me: “I assure you, sir, it tastes like standard chocolate ice cream.”

Customer: “She’s not going to like it because it’s not what she asked for! Just forget it!”

The customer slams the cup down on a nearby table and storms out.

Me: “Have a nice day, sir!”

My manager, who must’ve seen the whole thing on the security camera live-feed, pokes her head out from the back.

Manager: “What was that all about?”

Me: “He wanted chocolate and not triple chocolate.”

Manager: “But they taste the same!”

Me: “That’s what I told him.”

Manager: “Weird.”

My manager goes back into her office. I take the cup the man had touched and throw it out, and then I go back behind the counter. No sooner do I get back there than the old man comes storming back inside.

Customer: “Do you still have my cup?!”

Me: “No, sir, I threw it out due to the fact that it was unsanitary.”

Customer: “Well, that was a stupid thing to do; now I need to get a new cup! I talked to my wife. She was fine with triple chocolate.”

I am in the car with my mother driving. We pull up to a fast food place; the dining area is already closed but the drive-thru is open all night. My mum hates drive-thru because English is not our native language and she sometimes has a hard time understanding everything through the speaker.

Employee: “What can I get for you?”

Mum: “A large Coke and a bean burrito, please.”

Employee: “That was a large Coke and a beef burrito?”

Mum: “No, a bean burrito.”

Employee: “Beef burrito?”

That goes on for a while, until my mum spells it out.

Mum: “B-E-A-N!”

Employee: “Oh, so, one bean burrito. Not beef. Got it. Anything else?”

Mum: “Yes, one beef burrito, please.”

She actually didn’t realize how weird the conversation was, not even when I burst out laughing hysterically and the employee gave her a death stare.

It is around 10:00 pm on a Friday night. I am the shift lead and we are winding down to our closing time at 11:00 pm. One of my coworkers finished work shortly before and stayed around in the lobby to chat with friends. He goes to the toilet and comes back seconds later asking me to come with him to the disabled toilets. Our disabled toilet has a sliding door that is open, and you can see in when it isn’t in use.

Upon arriving at the toilet, I see that someone has written the name “Steve” in foot-high letters across the wall in excrement and left their “pen” in the sink. Having dealt with numerous rectal catastrophes over the years, the stink doesn’t quite knock me sick, but the sheer sight of it destroys me as a person.

My staff member politely declines the offer to give me a hand with it, so I clean it myself. I go and watch the CCTV footage afterward and can only narrow down the culprit to about a dozen people.

I never did find out who “Steve” was but he was the one who finished me off. I handed my notice in the next day, which contained possibly the only ever use of “a*** graffiti” in an official document, and had a couple of weeks to myself before settling on haulage as a next direction for myself.

I very much enjoy my new life which is devoid of fecal horrors and the other joys of the fast food industry.