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I'm vegitarian. By taste, not morals, but it does cut down on some of my options. Now, I love me some taco bell, but the two closest are each ten-fifteen minutes away. There's a Burger King about three minutes down the road, shortly past my workplace. I now go for the fries, but I was, for a while, a big Cheesy Tot fan. That and their lucious apple pies. This is beside the point.
I usually do drive through but this day I came earlier and decided to just go on in. An elderly-ish lady (mid-sixties) was a few people ahead of me. I didn't pay attention to her until later. Background for the place: It sucks. They employ mostly the bottom-rung folk that share the area with the art school next door. It's a weird neighborhood. So yeah: poor service, and good luck getting your order right. They suck, but I accept that 'cause they're the closest fast food I've got.
So this lady apparently wanted three whoppers. Or changed her mind to three whoppers, 'cause god knows it's not what the cashier thought she wanted. Somehow she got some sort of chicken salad she wasn't wanting (anymore?) and not enough whoppers. This BK is slow on the best of times (seriously. I'm the only one there and it takes five minutes to shovel up my fries) and was packed, now. I'd had two people ahead of me when I got there, including this lady, and it took me forty minutes to get out. Forty. Her fault. It was a while ago, elsewise I'd have the dialog up here. She went through the cashier, another food-maker, and the manager, at one point having all three trying to work on her at the same time. She had been ordering for herself and several friends of hers, who were sitting at the table (god knows how they got them out of there, 'cause they'd been trying to close up the resteraunt portion at this time). She was all sorts of fun: belligerant, uncommunicative with the folk helping her ("I don't know what you rung me up for. I wanted THREE WHOPPERS."), highly affronted at the level of service provided, and pulled out the "I'm never coming here again" card.
I was giggling. Flat-out giggling in line, behind her. I didn't have anywhere to be, so I was just enjoying the show. And sympathizing with the cashiers and manager, 'cause good LORD she was annoying. She ended up sitting down at the table and wanting the food brought to her when it was done. <I>I</I> carried her damn bag over. I gave the workers my sympathy and scooted with my (calmly acquired) food.
I usually do drive through but this day I came earlier and decided to just go on in. An elderly-ish lady (mid-sixties) was a few people ahead of me. I didn't pay attention to her until later. Background for the place: It sucks. They employ mostly the bottom-rung folk that share the area with the art school next door. It's a weird neighborhood. So yeah: poor service, and good luck getting your order right. They suck, but I accept that 'cause they're the closest fast food I've got.
So this lady apparently wanted three whoppers. Or changed her mind to three whoppers, 'cause god knows it's not what the cashier thought she wanted. Somehow she got some sort of chicken salad she wasn't wanting (anymore?) and not enough whoppers. This BK is slow on the best of times (seriously. I'm the only one there and it takes five minutes to shovel up my fries) and was packed, now. I'd had two people ahead of me when I got there, including this lady, and it took me forty minutes to get out. Forty. Her fault. It was a while ago, elsewise I'd have the dialog up here. She went through the cashier, another food-maker, and the manager, at one point having all three trying to work on her at the same time. She had been ordering for herself and several friends of hers, who were sitting at the table (god knows how they got them out of there, 'cause they'd been trying to close up the resteraunt portion at this time). She was all sorts of fun: belligerant, uncommunicative with the folk helping her ("I don't know what you rung me up for. I wanted THREE WHOPPERS."), highly affronted at the level of service provided, and pulled out the "I'm never coming here again" card.
I was giggling. Flat-out giggling in line, behind her. I didn't have anywhere to be, so I was just enjoying the show. And sympathizing with the cashiers and manager, 'cause good LORD she was annoying. She ended up sitting down at the table and wanting the food brought to her when it was done. <I>I</I> carried her damn bag over. I gave the workers my sympathy and scooted with my (calmly acquired) food.
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