So, this happened when I was fourteen years old, and working at the Golden Arches. (It's not very fuzzy for me, this jerkface stands out clearer than a never fading photograph, but I'm sure I'm paraphrasing some things.)
I was mostly a front counter cashier, but on occasion I did second window (pick-up window) or running the food to the person in the second window.
Now, at this point I had become pretty well known for getting very quiet and (quoted from a co-worker at the time) an "intimidating aura" when a SC appeared. Note: I was 5'8", and weighed about 115, I was (and still am) a waif of a person.
The Mangers didn't seem to mind it because I was never rude during this... erm... "mode" and I would instantly snap out of it once the SC went away.
So, this is a story in two parts, the set up and the explosion.
The Set-Up
I wasn't working drive thru but I clearly remember the man showing up. He showed up during the dinner rush and ordered only a large fry. He got a large fry that was made up of a just pulled batch of french fries (so the FRESHEST fries you can get) and it was for his kid. I remember the second-window girl squealing over the little boy's cute blue eyes and adorable smile.
The Explosion
Now I'm working drive thru, running food for the girl (same girl) in the second window. This guy peels around the side - lucky there were no cars there or someone would've gotten totaled! - and comes screaming up to the second window.
KM: Ketchup Man (you'll see)
CW: Co-worker, she's really nice, but not the brightest bulb
Me =
+ 
KM: YOU! YOU'RE THE CUNT WHO FORGOT MY FUCKING KETCHUP.
Me: *Immediately perks up and turns to face the drive thru window. The man is red in the face, gripping his steering wheel so tight his knuckles had to be cracking. He also had douche-bag glasses on, I hate those*
CW: U-Uh I'm sorry sir, what seems to--
KM: MY SON WON'T EACH FRIES WITHOUT KETCHUP. WE HAD TO FUCKING WAIT UNTIL WE GOT THE FUCK HOME AND USE OUR OWN GODDAMNED KETCHUP!!
CW: I'm very sorr--
KM: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE SORRY YOU BITCH. YOU AREN'T. YOU DON'T FUCKING CARE.
At this point, CW is visibly shaking and I was scared the guy was going to rip her out of the window and into his car.
Me: I pulled CW away from the window, told her to get the manager, and stuck my face in the way, blocking his view of CW. Hello there sir, how can I help you?
KM: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
Me: I'm the girl who can handle being yelled at by a very irate customer, my coworker there is of a fragile sort and I preferred she didn't get harassed to tears in the middle of her shift.
KM: I DON'T FUCKING CARE SHE MESSED MY FUCKING ORDER UP.
Me: Big, big, big smile, so big that I remember my cheeks being sore after. I'm sorry to hear that, and to hear that your son had to wait five minutes for your to arrive home before he could enjoy his fries.
KM: YOU DISRESPECTFUL PIECE OF SHIT.
Me: Mock hurt, disappointed expression. I'm sorry you feel that way. If you would like to pull into a parking space, our manager will be glad to have a word with you.
KM: YOU BET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS I WOULD--
Me: Please do not make inappropriate comments about my body, sir, it makes me uncomfortable. Steps back from the window, causing it to automatically slam shut.
At this point, Manager (who is awesome) is standing behind me with a bulldog look on his face. Now, this guy was in the Marines. He worked at this job before he joined and is working at this location again as a Manager because it was a quick job to grab and he gets to yell at idjits who think they can intimidate his staff. (The owner of the franchise loves the hell out of him, and since we were one of the top franchises for the area, we never really had to worry about head-in-the-golden-clouds higher ups breathing down our neck.)
KM stomps his way in, his chest puffed out and his nose wrinkled as if he has smelled something foul. I was pretty sure he caught a whiff of his own cologne (it STANK.) He spots my Manager, who is still looking ready to bite someone, and immediately deflates.
I left to go see if CW was okay, and she was doing pretty good, just hiding in the break room until KM went away.
KM got nothing but a handful of ketchup packets and a warning from the Manager.
I was mostly a front counter cashier, but on occasion I did second window (pick-up window) or running the food to the person in the second window.
Now, at this point I had become pretty well known for getting very quiet and (quoted from a co-worker at the time) an "intimidating aura" when a SC appeared. Note: I was 5'8", and weighed about 115, I was (and still am) a waif of a person.
The Mangers didn't seem to mind it because I was never rude during this... erm... "mode" and I would instantly snap out of it once the SC went away.
So, this is a story in two parts, the set up and the explosion.
The Set-Up
I wasn't working drive thru but I clearly remember the man showing up. He showed up during the dinner rush and ordered only a large fry. He got a large fry that was made up of a just pulled batch of french fries (so the FRESHEST fries you can get) and it was for his kid. I remember the second-window girl squealing over the little boy's cute blue eyes and adorable smile.
The Explosion
Now I'm working drive thru, running food for the girl (same girl) in the second window. This guy peels around the side - lucky there were no cars there or someone would've gotten totaled! - and comes screaming up to the second window.
KM: Ketchup Man (you'll see)
CW: Co-worker, she's really nice, but not the brightest bulb
Me =


KM: YOU! YOU'RE THE CUNT WHO FORGOT MY FUCKING KETCHUP.
Me: *Immediately perks up and turns to face the drive thru window. The man is red in the face, gripping his steering wheel so tight his knuckles had to be cracking. He also had douche-bag glasses on, I hate those*
CW: U-Uh I'm sorry sir, what seems to--
KM: MY SON WON'T EACH FRIES WITHOUT KETCHUP. WE HAD TO FUCKING WAIT UNTIL WE GOT THE FUCK HOME AND USE OUR OWN GODDAMNED KETCHUP!!
CW: I'm very sorr--
KM: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE SORRY YOU BITCH. YOU AREN'T. YOU DON'T FUCKING CARE.
At this point, CW is visibly shaking and I was scared the guy was going to rip her out of the window and into his car.
Me: I pulled CW away from the window, told her to get the manager, and stuck my face in the way, blocking his view of CW. Hello there sir, how can I help you?
KM: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
Me: I'm the girl who can handle being yelled at by a very irate customer, my coworker there is of a fragile sort and I preferred she didn't get harassed to tears in the middle of her shift.
KM: I DON'T FUCKING CARE SHE MESSED MY FUCKING ORDER UP.
Me: Big, big, big smile, so big that I remember my cheeks being sore after. I'm sorry to hear that, and to hear that your son had to wait five minutes for your to arrive home before he could enjoy his fries.
KM: YOU DISRESPECTFUL PIECE OF SHIT.
Me: Mock hurt, disappointed expression. I'm sorry you feel that way. If you would like to pull into a parking space, our manager will be glad to have a word with you.
KM: YOU BET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS I WOULD--
Me: Please do not make inappropriate comments about my body, sir, it makes me uncomfortable. Steps back from the window, causing it to automatically slam shut.
At this point, Manager (who is awesome) is standing behind me with a bulldog look on his face. Now, this guy was in the Marines. He worked at this job before he joined and is working at this location again as a Manager because it was a quick job to grab and he gets to yell at idjits who think they can intimidate his staff. (The owner of the franchise loves the hell out of him, and since we were one of the top franchises for the area, we never really had to worry about head-in-the-golden-clouds higher ups breathing down our neck.)
KM stomps his way in, his chest puffed out and his nose wrinkled as if he has smelled something foul. I was pretty sure he caught a whiff of his own cologne (it STANK.) He spots my Manager, who is still looking ready to bite someone, and immediately deflates.
I left to go see if CW was okay, and she was doing pretty good, just hiding in the break room until KM went away.
KM got nothing but a handful of ketchup packets and a warning from the Manager.

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