Getting Into An Ordering Pickle

| NC, USA | Bad Behavior, Employees, Food & Drink

(My husband and I rarely eat out, but when we do there are a handful of places we enjoy because we’ve always gotten good service there. A few nights ago, we’re both tired from work and don’t feel like cooking, so I offer to stop at [Higher-End Fast Food Chain] to pick up dinner. I’ll say again, we’ve never had a bad experience there before in the four years we’ve been living nearby. When I walk in, there are two cashiers manning the front. Cashier #1 is a woman about 40 years old; Cashier #2 looks like she’s probably still in college.)

Cashier #1: “What would you like today?”

Me: “Can I please get a [Type] salad, and a chicken sandwich with lettuce, cheese, and bacon only.”

(I tend to stress the ‘only’ because my husband is pretty picky about food, hence one of the reasons we don’t eat out much.)

Cashier #1: “Sure, your total is [total].”

(I pay and wait. Soon my name is called. I thank them and step to an out of the way table to check the order. I like to think they’ll get everything right, but we’ve had experiences with other restaurants where they get my husband’s order completely wrong, so I go ahead and check. Everything looks good, until I see pickles on the bottom bun of the sandwich. He HATES pickles.)

Me: *stepping back up to the counter* “Excuse me?”

Cashier #2: *only one at the counter at the time* “Yes, ma’am?”

Me: “I hate asking this, but this sandwich has pickles on it and I asked for cheese, lettuce, and bacon only. If it was mine I’d just pick them off if I didn’t want them, but my husband really doesn’t like pickles.”

Cashier #2: “No problem! I’ll get a new one made.” *starts typing order into the register for the kitchen* “Would you like to keep the original sandwich too?”

Me: “Really?”

Cashier #2: “Sure! We’re required to throw it away if you don’t want it.”

Me: “Wow, sure. Thank you!” *I figure I’ll have it for lunch the next day*

Cashier #2: *smiles* “No problem. I—”

(Cashier #1 reappears and immediately pounces on Cashier #2.)

Cashier #1: “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Me: *smiling* “Oh, it’s not a huge deal. It’s just there were pickles on my husband’s sandwich and—”

Cashier #1: *interrupts me* “You didn’t SAY no pickles.”

Me: *glancing at Cashier #2, who looks as surprised as I am* “Well, I said lettuce, cheese, and bacon only. I figured that implied I didn’t want anything else.”

Cashier #2: “It’s okay. I’m putting in the correction.”

Cashier #1: “No, no! I’ll fix it! I’ll fix it!”

(She SNATCHES the original sandwich out of my hand and stomps back to the kitchen. I see her verbally telling the order to the line cook, and then immediately dumping the other sandwich in the trash.)

Me: *exchanging a look with Cashier #2* “I can’t believe she just did that.”

Cashier #2: “Yeah… I’m so sorry.”

Me: “It’s okay.”

(I figured if they get it right this time I won’t make a big deal about her taking the other sandwich from me after the other girl said I could keep it.)

Cashier #1: *brings me a new sandwich box* “Here you go.” *hands it to me and walks away*

(I want to trust that it’s right, but at this point I can’t help but check it. The ingredients are correct, but instead of the two-three pieces of bacon normally on the sandwich, there is only one HALF of a piece of bacon. I try to catch Cashier #2’s attention, but Cashier #1 sees and cuts in.)

Cashier #1: “Were you waiting on something else?”

Me: “Look, I promise I’m not a picky person normally, but this sandwich is supposed to have two-three pieces of bacon and there’s only a half of a piece on here. Can I please get another piece or two for it?”

(Cashier #1 gives me a look and goes into the back. She comes back with a little container and hands it to me without another word.)

Me: *ready to get out of there, I wave goodbye to Cashier #2* “Thanks again!”

(I get home and am putting our food onto plates. I open the container and there are at least five pieces of bacon stuffed in there, so I put them all on my husband’s sandwich.)

Husband: *sees the pile bacon on his sandwich* “Whoa! It doesn’t normally come with that much, does it?”

Me: “Be thankful. I fought hard for that bacon.”


He Dips, He Scores!

| Pittsburgh, PA, USA | Food & Drink, Funny Names

(My manager and I are both working drive-thru at a popular chicken restaurant.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I take your order?”

Customer: “Hi, I need a four-piece chicken dark meat and a bucket of football!”

Manager: “Did you hear what I heard?”

Me: “I heard a bucket of football.”

Manager: “Same. What the h*** is a bucket of football?”

Me: *to customer* “I’m sorry, can you repeat the last item?”

Customer: “A bucket of football!”

Manager: *sarcastically to me* “Suuure, because we totally sell buckets of football!” *to customer* “Sorry, our headsets cut out. Please repeat the last item.”

Customer: “A bucket of cole slaw!”

Me: “OH. Well that makes more sense than a bucket of football!”


Giving Them Notice Is The Maine Thing

| Bangor, ME, USA | Bosses & Owners, Time

(I have decided to move back to my hometown, and am giving my manager my notice. It is the beginning of March.)

Me: “I’ll be leaving Maine on April 8th. My last day here can’t be later than April 6th.”

Boss: “That’s not a lot of notice.”

Me: *blinks* “Erm… it’s over a month.”

(I’m not sure how much notice he needed, considering two weeks is standard and I gave double that.)


No One Is The King Of This Hill

| Oxford, England, UK | At The Checkout, Employees, Food & Drink

(I’m in college. I and a group of my friends have headed out to pick up lunch in the centre of town and head into a fast food place. They’re advertising a new burger called “The Big King.” The advertising isn’t very clear as to what it has in it.)

Friend: “Excuse me, what’s in the Big King?”

(The server jolts and looks startled before turning to face into the kitchen.)

Server: *heavily accented* “[Worker #1]! What is Big King?!”

(The person he’s shouting at looks like a deer in headlights, shakes his head, and dashes off.)

Server: “[Worker #2]! What is Big King?!”

(The second person does the same, this time heading through a door in the back and not returning. At this point we’re all exchanging looks.)

Server: “[Worker #3]! What is Big King?!”

(The third person froze solid and didn’t respond. My friend put up his hands and ordered something else. The phrase “What is Big King?!” became a running joke among our whole class.)


The Customer Service Is Soda-pressing, Part 2

| ON, Canada | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Employees, Food & Drink

(I work from home for an IT company and typically work PST times as that’s where the bulk of my stakeholders are. I live in the EST time zone and as it’s close to Christmas, I decide to take some time in the morning to do errands before the west coast folks are online. It’s about 11:00 am EST and I’m starving so I head into a well-known fast food joint, since it’s on my errand route.)

Me: “Hi, can I please have [Breakfast Wrap] and a small [Diet Soda]?”

Cashier: “A small what?”

Me: “[Diet Soda], please.”

Cashier: “Okay, that’s [total].”

Worker #2: “[Cashier], what are you doing? Why are you pouring a soft drink? It’s not even noon yet!” *laughs*

Cashier: “Right? Who in their right mind orders a soft drink in the morning? That’s just weird, right?” *turns to see me still standing there and sputters* “Well, here you are!”

(I was embarrassed beyond belief but held my tongue. I wasn’t about to ruin a 15- to 16-year-old’s day by calling her out but I spent the rest of the day thinking of a million retorts.)

The Customer Service Is Soda-pressing