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Ahh, don't ya just love the smell of karma in the evening?
I was coming home earlier tonight from visiting friends in Pittsburgh. I got hungry and stopped at McDonalds. The scene is typical for 10:45pm. Cars circling the building waiting for drive-thru, lobby packed with people, like myself, who think that walking in will be faster. It never is, but we still have hope. Tonight wasn't one of those nights either. There's one guy working the window, one woman working the lobby and a guy cooking, or at least that's all I saw.
As I'm waiting in line, maybe the 9th or 10th in line I hear the worker at the window welcome the next customer. Now those communication systems are horrible, as we all know, but I most definately heard the guy ordering pretty distinctly...
SDC = Sucky drive-thru customer
OUW = Overworked, underpaid worker
SDC: Lemme have a number 3 super-sized with a Sprite.
OUW: That's a number 3 super-size with a Sprite? Anything else?
SDC: That's it, yes.
OUW: That'll be $4.51 sir. Please pull to the second window.
SDC: I will as soon as these assholes in front of me get the hell outa my way.
I saw OUW roll his eyes. One thing worthy of mentioning at this point is that at this particular MickeyD's a number 3 meal is a Quarter pounder with cheese. I know, because that's what I was going to order if it ever got to my turn in the lobby.
3 or 4 minutes later...
OUW: Number 3 supersized and a Sprite?
SDC: Says nothing and holds up a bill that the worker had to reach way out the window to grab.
OUW: makes change, bags the delicacies and hands them to SDC and says thank you. No biggie, right? Would I be writing this if it was?
Fast forward 2 minutes...
A guy throws the lobby door open and walks past me right up to the counter.
SDC: I was just in the drive-thru. (Not using his inside voice) I ASKED FOR A NUMBER 3! THIS AIN'T A DAMN NUMBER 3!
OUW: (looks in bag) I'm sorry sir, but that is a number 3, a Quarter pounder with cheese and it is supersized like you asked for.
SDC: Don't gimme that shit. I ordered a number 3. That's a fish sandwich!
OUW: (walks over to the to nicely lit sign and points directly to panel that says that a number 3 is not a fish sandwich, it's a [say it with me folks] Quarter-pounder with cheese)
SDC: Well the one outside said a number 3 was the fish.
OUW: No it doesn't sir. I've been here since 5pm. (it's now about 11pm) I would think that I would have got a few complaints if it were different outside.
SDC is mortally wounded. He puts his QPC back in the bag and slinks away like the worm he was.
Enter karma.
A couple of us watch as the guy goes outside and about a minute later he runs back in.
SDC: Can you call the cops for me. Someone stole my damn car.
Idiot boy left it running right outside the door.
I was coming home earlier tonight from visiting friends in Pittsburgh. I got hungry and stopped at McDonalds. The scene is typical for 10:45pm. Cars circling the building waiting for drive-thru, lobby packed with people, like myself, who think that walking in will be faster. It never is, but we still have hope. Tonight wasn't one of those nights either. There's one guy working the window, one woman working the lobby and a guy cooking, or at least that's all I saw.
As I'm waiting in line, maybe the 9th or 10th in line I hear the worker at the window welcome the next customer. Now those communication systems are horrible, as we all know, but I most definately heard the guy ordering pretty distinctly...
SDC = Sucky drive-thru customer
OUW = Overworked, underpaid worker
SDC: Lemme have a number 3 super-sized with a Sprite.
OUW: That's a number 3 super-size with a Sprite? Anything else?
SDC: That's it, yes.
OUW: That'll be $4.51 sir. Please pull to the second window.
SDC: I will as soon as these assholes in front of me get the hell outa my way.
I saw OUW roll his eyes. One thing worthy of mentioning at this point is that at this particular MickeyD's a number 3 meal is a Quarter pounder with cheese. I know, because that's what I was going to order if it ever got to my turn in the lobby.
3 or 4 minutes later...
OUW: Number 3 supersized and a Sprite?
SDC: Says nothing and holds up a bill that the worker had to reach way out the window to grab.
OUW: makes change, bags the delicacies and hands them to SDC and says thank you. No biggie, right? Would I be writing this if it was?
Fast forward 2 minutes...
A guy throws the lobby door open and walks past me right up to the counter.
SDC: I was just in the drive-thru. (Not using his inside voice) I ASKED FOR A NUMBER 3! THIS AIN'T A DAMN NUMBER 3!
OUW: (looks in bag) I'm sorry sir, but that is a number 3, a Quarter pounder with cheese and it is supersized like you asked for.
SDC: Don't gimme that shit. I ordered a number 3. That's a fish sandwich!
OUW: (walks over to the to nicely lit sign and points directly to panel that says that a number 3 is not a fish sandwich, it's a [say it with me folks] Quarter-pounder with cheese)
SDC: Well the one outside said a number 3 was the fish.
OUW: No it doesn't sir. I've been here since 5pm. (it's now about 11pm) I would think that I would have got a few complaints if it were different outside.
SDC is mortally wounded. He puts his QPC back in the bag and slinks away like the worm he was.
Enter karma.
A couple of us watch as the guy goes outside and about a minute later he runs back in.
SDC: Can you call the cops for me. Someone stole my damn car.
Idiot boy left it running right outside the door.
Just around the corner, to teach the idiots a lesson.
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