When Turning Entitlement Up To Eleven Isn’t Enough

(Today is my first shift at a fast food restaurant. I have processed a woman’s order and she has sat down to eat her meal. She takes one bit out of her fries and comes to the counter.)

Customer: “These fries are terrible. I need fresh and crisp.”

Me: “These are literally the first batch of fries we have cooked today. I can assure you that they are fresh and crisp.”

(She’s silent for a few seconds, like she thinks I’m talking in a different language.)

Customer: “FRESH and CRISP! Can you handle that?”

(Before I can speak, the manager comes over and tells me to take her fries to the deputy manager, and quietly tells me to ask for a “twelve.” I go to the back of the kitchen and speak to the deputy. He takes the fries, puts them on the counter, and has a quick conversation with me about my previous job. He shakes the fries and hands them back to me. Confused, I ask what he’s doing and he assures me that I can take them back to the front. I hand the fries back to the woman. She takes one and chews it, looking very satisfied.)

Customer: “See. That wasn’t hard, was it?”

(She returned to her seat, ate the rest of her meal, and left. I was left dumbfounded until the manager filled me in on what had happened. Apparently, we are close to an affluent area, and a lot of the customers are extremely entitled. Basically, they want you to worship the ground they walk on. I didn’t give her the respect she expected, so she decided to complain. The restaurant calls those customers “twelve.” They’re so far up their own a**es that they don’t realise they’re getting back exactly what they’ve complained about. I have only been working for a week, and the amount of twelves I’ve seen is astounding, and I have yet to encounter one that realises what is happening.)