They Just Can’t Quite Cut The Mustard

(I pull into the drive-thru at a nationwide fast food joint, one that I’ve been going to for eons.)

Worker: “Hi. Can I take your order?”

Me: “Sure. I’ll have a #6, but without mustard, large size. with a [Soda].”

Worker: “No problem.”

(I watch her punch it into the computer as it shows up on my screen and notice that she does not put “no mustard” in there. So, I drive up to her window.)

Worker: “Okay, that will be [total].”

Me: *hands her my card* “Here you go. Oh, and please make sure that my hamburger doesn’t have mustard on it.”

Worker: “Oh, that hamburger doesn’t come with mustard. That’s why I didn’t put it in.”

Me: “I’ve been ordering the same thing for years, and it’s always had mustard on it; when did it change?”

Worker: “Oh, you must be wrong; it’s never had mustard.”

Me: “It always has, for the many years I have been ordering it. Can you please make sure they don’t put mustard on it?”

Worker: “It doesn’t come with mustard, sir. I don’t need to tell them.”

Me: “Please go tell them, anyway, or give me my card back and I’ll go someplace else.”

Worker: “I already charged your card, but here.”

(She hands me my card back, and I’m about to ask for a manager, when a manager happens to come by the window.)

Manager: *to worker* “Is there a problem?”

Worker: “He ordered a #6 and says he doesn’t want mustard on it, but I’ve told him it doesn’t come with mustard.”

Manager: *to worker* “A #6 does come with mustard! Ugh, now I have to have them remake it. Next time just punch it into the computer.”

Manager: *to me* “Sorry about this.”

(A few minutes later:)

Manager: *to me* “Here you go. I threw in a chocolate cake for you. I’m sorry about her; she’s new, but she thinks she knows everything already.” *sighs*

(I visited that place many times after that and never saw her working there again.)