They Don’t Know (Pepper)Jack

(After walking back and forth along the mall length thrice, Mom and I decide to grab dinner at the food court. We go to a restaurant known for its chicken. She gets a chicken salad sandwich and I get the restaurant’s deluxe sandwich with colby jack cheese. I take a bite and immediately notice something’s wrong when I taste something spicy.)

Me: *opening the sandwich* “What the heck? I said colby jack not pepper jack!” *to Mom* “Be right back. Let me swap this real quick.”

(I go up to the counter with the sandwich and the receipt that says next to my order “CJ,” meaning colby jack, proving that’s what I initially ordered. I end up with a different cashier than the one who took my order, as she was free first.)

Cashier: “Can I help you?”

Me: “Yes.” *shows her the sandwich and receipt* “I ordered this with colby jack cheese but got pepper jack instead. Could I please exchange this for a new one?”

Cashier: “Oh, absolutely! I’m sorry for the mix up! That was the [Restaurant] deluxe, right?”

Me: “Correct.”

(I try to hand her the incorrect sandwich, but she refuses to take it.)

Cashier: “Oh, no! Go ahead and keep it! It was our mistake.”

Me: “Okay, then. Thank you.”

(Since they’d probably just throw them away anyway, I see no harm in keeping it. My second sandwich comes out, and I decide to check it on the spot just to be safe. Surprisingly, it also has pepper jack cheese.)

Me: “Um, are you guys out of colby jack by some sheer chance? This is also pepper jack.”

Cashier: “Um, I think that’s colby jack.”

(At this point I’m confused and wonder if I was initially mistaken, but I notice a sandwich on the menu board advertised as having pepper jack and the cheese on it looks exactly like the one on both my sandwiches. I point this out to the cashier.)

Cashier: “Um, let me just double check.”

(She takes the second one and goes to the kitchen window. I can’t hear the exchange, but she returns looking a bit flustered.)

Cashier: “I’m so sorry! We’ll have the right one out for you as quickly as possible! I’m sorry for the wait!”

Me: “It’s okay. I’m not starving. I can wait. Just tell them to give me American if they’re out of colby jack.”

(She moves over to another register to continue helping customers while I wait at the counter she was at. She turns to apologize every so often. Being an avid reader of Not Always Right, I jump to a conclusion.)

Me: “How long have you worked here?”

Cashier: “A couple months.”

Me: “Ah, I figured if you’ve worked here long enough you’ve met some customers that’d flip at this situation. Don’t worry, I make it a point to not be one of those customers.”

(She chuckles a little at this, and did seem to be more at ease. My sandwich arrives, and this time it has the right cheese. I thank the cashier and attempt to hand her the second pepper jack sandwich, but she lets me keep it, too. Once I return to the table…)

Mom: “There you are! I was wondering where you were. You were gone for so long I thought someone had stolen you!”

Me: “Nah, it just took them three tries to get the right kind of cheese on it. At least they let me keep the other two. Admittedly, I was tempted to demand a free milkshake or something after the second slip-up…”

Mom: “But you’re not that mean?”

Me: “Nope. Well, I try not to be, anyway.”