Fucking Asshole
by WHO on Jan-5-2001

I finally got the job of my dreams: I help maintain a website for a prominent T.V. station. (No, I will not tell you which one, you fucking stalkers) However, the job is only part-time. Which means I will not be earning enough money to quit my night job at Taco Bell. For now, I’m stuck there.

Actually, it’s getting a lot better. I hired and trained a fairly decent crew. Our speed of service is up; food cost is down. Sales are slowing down due to the lousy weather. My workload is getting smaller and I’m up for promotion. It’s not that bad.

Who am I kidding? The job fucking blows.

Why? Well, there is one little thing preventing job from ever being anything but degrading…the customers. The job would be fucking perfect without customers.

Just today I was on the steam line making food when the drive thru buzzer beeped. One of my employees answered it and the entire stored learned via loudspeaker that we had one disgruntled customer on our hands.

Employee: Thank you for choosing Taco Bell. What can I get you today?

Disgruntled customer: Hey, you idiots! I just came through there and ordered a fiesta steak burrito and you gave me beef!

At this point, I’m thinking to myself, “Shit. I probably did fuck that one up.” I make the steak burrito and bag it up as I’m listening to the correspondence between crew and customer.

Employee: OK, sir, just grab your receipt out of the bag, pull up to the window, and we’ll take care of you.

Disgruntled Customer: I’d better not need a receipt, GODDAMMIT!

Now I’m thinking, “Damn. He sounds really pissed. I’d better go over there and smooth things over.” I grab the burrito and head over to the window. My entire crew followed excited at the prospect of fireworks.

I open up the window and (big surprise) am greeted by a pissed off, illiterate bastard, his wife, and his worthless little offspring. Before I can even open my mouth, he thrusts his half eaten burrito at me and shouts:

“THAT IS BEEF!”

I think: No shit, genius. Too bad you couldn’t figure that out before you devoured half of the thing…

I say: “Sorry about that, sir. You said you wanted a steak burrito?

I go to hand him the burrito, but I stop when he screams, “YES I SAID STEAK YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”

“Whoa, you’ve just made a mistake, sir,” breathes one of the kids standing next to me.

Of course, I snatch the burrito out of his hands and hurl it into the trash.

“GIVE ME MY FUCKING STEAK BURRITO!” He howls.

I reply, “Maybe if you treated people halfway decently, I would have given you want you wanted. But since you’re a fucking asshole I’m going to give you your money back and tell you to get the fuck out of here because I’m not getting paid enough to put up with your bullshit…how’s that?”

“GIVE ME MY BURRITO OR I’LL CALL THE 800 NUMBER!”

Collective sigh from my entire crew, “Ooooooooooo!”

Lord, what a pathetic threat: the 800 number. I’m about to piss myself, I’m so afraid.

I thrust his money at him and say, “Call it, you dickless fuck. You’re still going home hungry today.” I glance over at his wife briefly. She was staring intently at her thumb, no doubt thinking, ‘Why did I have to marry such a fucking asshole?’ My heart went out to her.

So he throws his pickup truck into drive and gasses it out of there. I call after him, “Have a nice day!”

Ten minutes later, some chick walks into the store holding a burrito. She gestures me over and says, “I’m not one to complain, but this is really messy.”

I reply, “I’m sorry about that. We’ll make you another one.”

That woman walked out of the store with a fresh burrito and two free items of her choice.

And the moral of the story? Give me a second; I’m still getting to that…

Lately, I’ve been surfing around some personal websites and I’ve had the opportunity to read some rants concerning fast food restaurants. All negative, of course.

Complaints about food service workers with complimentary responses from WHO

“They’re idiots.”

We’re idiots? We’re idiots? Excuse me, but we’re not the ones who stare at the menu board intently in an utter state of confusion for 15 minutes trying to figure what we’d like to eat. After that, we don’t ask for the price of every fucking item on said menu. (Hint: the prices are on that big sign you’re looking at…we don’t have them memorized) And after that, WE don’t order items that don’t fucking exist! I hate having to baby-sit every customer that comes thru the drive thru. Value meals are the worst. I can’t count how many times I’ve had the following conversation:

Customer: I want a number eight.
Me: And how would you like your gorditas?
Customer: Beef.
Me: What flavor beef gordita?
Customer: What kind do you have?
Me: Supreme, nacho cheese, santa fe, or baja.
Customer: Supreme.
Me: Would you like hard or soft tacos?
Customer: Soft.
Me: What would you like to drink with that value meal?
Customer: Pepsi.

Listen, we’re skilled in the art of making tacos, not mind reading.Get off your cell phone and TELL US WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT! What is wrong with saying, ‘I’d like a number eight with beef supreme gorditas, soft tacos, and pepsi?’ Why must you make us hold your hand through your entire order? I’m not getting paid enough to wipe your ass. Just because we don’t know what going on in that screwed up little head of yours, doesn’t make us idiots.

“They can never hear me and I have to repeat my order over and over.”

Let me explain to you how the drive thru works. You pull up to the sign and it sets off the speaker, which can be heard in the store. A lot of the time, speaker is located under your car. If you constantly have problems being heard in the drive thru, I’m willing to bet it’s because you own a late model car with no muffler. That’s right, we can’t hear you because your junker is too loud! Buy a new car or turn off your engine when you get to the sign…the results are usually astounding.

“The food sucks”

Quit eating it.

I’m sick of hearing complaints that start out, “Every time I come here….”

If every time you come to a store the food stinks, QUIT EATING IT. No one is forcing it down your throat, you fucking glutton!

“The service is slow.”

Usually it’s not our fault. Some pig in front of you probably ordered 30 tacos and didn’t have the decency to call it in. How long do you think it would take YOU to make 30 tacos? Usually, it takes me around 2 minutes. However, according to the customers, 2 minutes is an eternity drive thru time.

Call in your orders if they’re huge. Have your money ready when you get to the window. Pull away from the drive thru to check your orders. Do your part to ensure fast service for everyone.

Or go home and make your own damn food.

“They’re rude.”

Only around the end of our shifts. What do you expect? The public has been shitting on us for damn near 7 hours. There is only so much one can take before they retaliate by failing to say ‘Have a great day!’

People seem to be under the impression that just because one works in a food focused industry, it’s OK to treat them like dirt. Before work, I put on an ugly uniform, stupid hat, and I shed any degree of self-respect I once possessed. I am no longer permitted to be human. It is not possible for me to have a bad day. I am smiling, goony, robot with no other purpose but to serve lazy, fat, people who don’t possess even a hint of manners, common courtesy, or patience.

I’m regularly cursed at and called names. I’ve had food thrown at me. I’ve had to call the police on numerous drunkards. I’ve broken up fights. I’ve been sexually harassed. I’ve had to report our property being vandalized more than once. I’ve been threatened. Sometimes, this happens all in one day. How genuine do you think you’re smile would be after a night of this? Do you think you’d be tired by the end of the night? Do you think your exhaustion would cause you to accidentally put beef on a steak burrito?

Of course it would. You’re HUMAN and HUMANS make MISTAKES. But it’s how someone reacts to your mistake that makes all the difference. Remember the old proverb: you can catch more bees with honey than you can with vinegar….or something like that.

DON’T say:

‘Smile!’

I feel like ripping throats out when someone says that.

DON’T say:

‘If you don’t like your job, quit!’

….unless you want to start paying my bills.

And DON’T, under any circumstances, act like the fucking asshole I had to deal with today….

….or you may just end up going home hungry.



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