(My dad, brother, and I offer to pick up a quick dinner for my mom, who is home and has to go to work soon. My dad pulls up to the speaker of a fast food restaurant. My mom has a very severe milk allergy [not just lactose intolerance], so she only gets plain hamburgers, no cheese.)

Dad: *into the speaker* “Hi, can I get a #1 combo, just ketchup? And no cheese on the burger.”

Worker #1: “No problem. A hamburger combo, plain just ketchup?”

Dad: “Yes, and no cheese. My wife is allergic.”

Worker #1: “Okay. Your total is [total]. Please pull forward.”

(We get up to the window to pay, and [Worker #1] hands my dad the receipt. He double checks it and it says “#1 combo-ketchup and cheese”. He gets [Worker #1’s] attention.)

Dad: “The receipt says cheese on the burger. I need it to be plain with just ketchup.”

Worker #1: “Uh… yeah. It’ll be without cheese.” *slams window shut*

(When the worker returns, he gives us the bag. My dad pulls ahead a bit and asks my brother to check the sandwich. Sure enough, it has ketchup and what appears to be cheese that was hastily scraped off. No one is behind him, so he reverses back to the pick up window. [Worker #1] is speaking with someone at the speaker, so we wait. After taking the other order, he looks at my dad, rolls his eyes and ignores him. My dad takes the burger from the bag, and holds it out the window, waving it around. Finally [Worker #1] opens the window.)

Dad: “You said it wouldn’t have cheese, but this clearly has cheese you just scraped off.”

([Worker #1] takes the burger, throws it at an inside trash can, hard, and walks away without a word. After a moment, [Worker #2] comes back with a new burger.)

Worker #2: “Here you go, sir. Sorry about that. This one has no cheese.” *My dad starts to unwrap it to check.* “Oh, you don’t need to check, I made that myself. No cheese.”

Dad: “Yeah, that’s what the last guy said. My wife is extremely allergic to milk, so if this had cheese your restaurant would have a real problem on your hands.”

Worker #2: “Well, this one has no cheese. Good night.” *She shuts the window and walks away.*

(My dad is known to ask for a manager and rightfully complain when situations like this happen [and unfortunately these happen to him an a regular basis, and he is not one to suffer fools]. But because my mom was working soon he decided against it this time. Later, he did the customer survey explaining what happened, and was offered a free combo. His response to them: “I’ll vote for [despised president] before I eat at your restaurant again.”)

(I am serving a woman and I’m about to make her drink for her meal.)

Customer: “Please, can I just have a little bit of ice? I don’t like too much ice.”

Me: “Of course; I’ll just sprinkle a little in the bottom.”

Customer: “Oh no, I prefer me ice at the top of the cup; could you please put it there instead?”

Me: “Umm, sure, I think I can manage that…”

(I work at fast food place that is an independent building. We up-sell products like any business, but today we get some advice on exactly what we should be selling to customers.)

Customer: “Can you put salt and ketchup into the bag?”

Cashier: “Yes, of course.”

Customer: “Why would you say yes to that? You’re promoting unhealthy eating!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand.”

Customer: “You can’t be giving out salt! Salt will kill you! You should be offering pepper instead! This is ridiculous!”

Cashier: “…would you like pepper instead of salt, sir?”

(The customer scoffed and drove to the second window, continuing to rant about the negative effects of salt. Needless to say, he never clarified if he wanted pepper, so we put salt, per his request, in his bag.)

(A husband and wife pull up to the store in a large SUV. They order their food, and are very nice throughout the entire ordering process. However, after they pay, I make the dire mistake of bagging their items when I am informed their food is to go.)

Wife: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Me: “…bagging your things?”

Wife: “BUT THAT’S PLASTIC!”

Me: “Yes?”

Wife: “NO! NO, NO, NO! NO PLASTIC! AUGH!”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry about that.”

Wife: “It’s just that plastic is TERRIBLE for the environment! I know it’s not your choice to use them; it’s the company’s, but it’s just so irresponsible! You’ve really upset me! I cannot believe you tried to give me PLASTIC!”

(As she continues to ramble about how she knows it’s not my fault we use plastic bags, but subtly hints that it actually is my fault, I recall the car she and her husband drove up in. I look out the window for a few long moments and eye her car before I look at her meaningfully.)

Me: “Is that your SUV? How many miles per gallon does that get?”

(The woman turned bright red, grabbed her food, and ran out. Her husband apologized to me about “all that” and gave me a tip before he left.)

(A call comes in ten minutes before closing:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant], this is [My Name] speaking, how can I help you?”

Irate Caller: “I cannot believe that you would expose my children to such inappropriate television advertisements! This whole [new company slogan] is exposing my daughters to [oral sex], and they are only four and six years old. I should report you to the FCC!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you are calling a local franchise location. The national corporate office creates the all advertisements, and we don’t have any say in it. I can help you get in contact with them, if you would like.”

Irate Caller: “Well, if you cared about your customers at all, you would take down those disgusting ads right now!”

Me: “Sir, I’m a local supervisor; I have no control over television ads. However, the number for [Restaurant]’s corporate office is [number]. We don’t have any interaction with them, other than buying our supplies, so you need to call them in the morning. I’m sure they can tell you who can help you.”

Irate Caller: “I’ve never seen such horrible things in my life, and you won’t help me. You’re harming my four- and six-year-olds, and all you will do is tell me to talk to someone else in the morning. I want these ads taken down now! I don’t want them to show up on my TV again.”

Me: “Sir, in all honestly, you’re just calling the wrong number. You need to call the corporate office. I’m sure they can help you.”

Irate Caller: “If you cared about your job, you would care about me! What lousy customer service! Don’t you even care about my daughters? Fix this now!!!!”

Me: “Sir, I’m a 19-year-old college student, working at a fast food joint making [just over minimum wage] an hour. I would love to help you, but I have absolutely no say over what is on television. I wouldn’t even know who to call to ask them to stop broadcasting them. Personally, I agree with you. I don’t like the new slogan. I think it’s dumb and I also think it’s inappropriate. However, I can’t help you; only the corporate office can.”

Irate Caller: “If you agree with me, why won’t you help me? I’m going to get you fired and, then sue for exposing my kids to [oral sex]! It’s not right what you’re doing.”

Me: “Okay, sir, if you call the corporate office, they can put you in contact with their legal department.”

Irate Caller: “Why are you doing this to my kids, you [swear word]?”

Me: “Sir, it is time for me to close the restaurant. I cannot help you and I really need to go. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, but if you call the corporate office, I’m sure you can find someone with the authority to help. Do you need me to repeat the number?”

Irate Caller: “You know you’re going to Hell, right?” *slams down the phone*