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Well, Egg-scuse Me!

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Feathers137 | October 21, 2022

I work in fast food. A lady comes in, and I meet her at the front register.

Me: “Just to let you know—”

Lady: “Um, I’m still deciding.”

Me: “Okay, take your time, but—”

Lady: “Just give me a second!”

I drop the customer service voice and get a little aggressive.

Me: “Okay, but I need to let you know that we’re out of eggs.”

Lady: “Oh, you’re out of eggs?”

My customer service voice returns.

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry. You can still order whatever you’d like, but it won’t have eggs.”

Lady: “Okay, so no eggs.”

Me: “Yup. Again, I’m sorry about that, but we’ve got several items without eggs, or I can ask them to add extra meat.”

Lady: “Oh, okay… Can I get a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit?”

Me: “Okay, but like I said, we’re out of eggs, so it’ll just have to be bacon and cheese. Is that okay?”

Lady: “Oh… Are you guys going out of business?”

Me: “Um, no?”

Lady: “You should be!”

Then, she turned around and walked out.

For anyone curious, the reason we were out of eggs was that the egg cooker had broken. We got it fixed the next morning!

To Do This Every Day, You Gotta Be Cold Blooded

, , , , | Right | October 20, 2022

Every day — I kid you not, every f****** day — this dirty-looking guy comes in.

Customer: “Gimme two [ninety-nine-cent hamburgers] with extra pickles on the side. Those burgers are not to be microwaved!”

We microwave all burgers to ensure the buns are warm. When we give him his burgers, he always unwraps one at the counter and takes a bite to make sure it’s acceptable, and he almost always flips out, screaming at the employees, who are mostly teenagers.

Customer: “My burger is cold!”

We apologetically take the g**d*** burgers back and microwave them and hand them back out to him, and of COURSE, he says:

Customer: “Now that’s how you make a burger!”

I’d love to just microwave them the first time to avoid this, but management says we have to comply with the order as given. Looking forward to repeating this tomorrow!

That Last Hour Of Work Sure Moves Slow

, , , , , | Working | October 19, 2022

One night after working late, I decided to stop by a fast food place that serves burgers. Being too lazy to go inside, I went through the drive-thru and ordered my food. Unfortunately, I waited until after leaving the window to check my food, at which point I realized there was no meat on my burger. I pulled over and went inside to get it corrected.

When I first entered, there was no one at the counter, so I waited until a woman finally appeared from the back. I was barely able to mumble out my concern before she started yelling at me.

Keep in mind that it was two hours before the whole restaurant closed and one hour before the inside closed. This was also pre-health crisis.

Me: “My burger has no meat on—”


Me: “I opened the door.”

Employee: “We’re closed! You need to leave right now.”

Me: “Your sign said you’re open. I just went through the drive-thru. I just want my burger fixed.”

Employee: “No! We’re closed and you need to leave.”

A manager appeared from the back and asked what was going on, so I started to tell her my problem. Before I could, however, the employee started again.

Employee: “We’re closed. She can’t be in here.”

Manager: *Sighing* “[Employee], we don’t close inside for another hour. Now, fix her food.”

The manager walked off, leaving the employee stuttering. She had my sandwich fixed and practically threw it at me.

At least my sandwich was correct.

Customers Will Skip Over Their Stupidity And Go Straight To Murder

, , | Right | October 19, 2022

A woman comes up to our counter and says all in one go, without any escalation:

Customer: “Excuse me. My son ordered a cheeseburger, and you gave him a hamburger. I ordered a hamburger, and you gave me a cheeseburger. I’m lactose intolerant. Are you trying to kill me?

I had to escalate to a manager because I was so tempted to say yes.

Literal Bean Counters

, , , | Right | October 17, 2022

Our Tex-Mex place used to cook the beans onsite from dried pinto beans, which came in hundred-pound bags. One of the counter staff’s jobs was to pick through the dried beans for rocks or any other non-bean matter that was left when the beans were harvested and dried. We did this in a corner at the front counter so we could watch for customers.

One night, I was picking through the beans while my coworker was serving a couple of drunk frat guys. One of the drunk frats walked up to me and stared intently at me as I pulled a few beans from the pile, spread them on the counter, and then brushed them into the pan.

After watching me for like five minutes:

Customer: “Are you counting those beans?”

Me: “Why, yes, sir, I am. We have to make sure there are only fifty beans per burrito.”

He walked away satisfied. Even though the beans, once they are cooked, are mashed and served out of big metal bins that are completely visible to the customers. I’m not sure how he thought we translated fifty individual beans to the amount of mashed beans we put on a burrito.

He’s probably a CEO somewhere.