March 16th, 2006

Argh.

Hm.

So.

I work in foodservice myself. In fact, I'm a store manager for a foodservice establishment; one where it seems everyone and their brother likes to call to get three pizzas for fifteen bucks. *cough*

I've worked with this company for several years, and, as such, I am sick and tired of the food. Luckily for me, I'm within a block of about four different restaurants--including a Wendy's, which is about 500 feet away from me.

Well, the other day I was hungry, and decided I would NOT be eating the crap at work again. The very thought of it made me ill. So I decided to go to Wendy's--I loves me some Wendy's. And, I decided I didn't want to go inside with my dorky uniform on, so I drove my truck over through the drive through. Just as I pulled up to the speaker, two cars pulled in behind me.

I pull up to the speaker, and the speaker says, "Welcome to Wendy's, how can I help you" in a rather bored tone.

I say, "Hi there! May I please have a Crispy Chicken Nug--"

"No."

I falter for a moment. And then say, "EXCUSE me?" For, see, as a manager, I would be tearing any employee of mine who did something like that a new one.

"Haha," quoth the speaker. "What else you want?"

So I place the rest of my order: 2 Junior Bacon cheeseburgers, and 2 medium fries. In addition to the Crispy Chicken Nuggets with Sweet n Sour sauce.

I pull up to the window, and the people inside are just milling around like stoned cattle. I pull out my money--exact change--and look inside. The kid who was the voice on the speakerbox stares at me, stares at my money, then turns his back and walks away. I recognize him as the scuzzy punk who used to work at the Subway two doors down--the one who looks like he's never met a toothbrush in his life.

At this point I'm extremely frowny. After a few moments, the kid returns, slams open the glass window, and reaches out his hand without a word. I hand him the money, and he counts it, puts it in his drawer, and walks away--then apparently remembers there are people behind me, and starts taking their orders. He then systematically flips out and starts hitting the keys on the register. And I mean HITTING. And swearing under his breath. The manager of the store, a woman who appears to be in her 40's, stands by and gives a disapproving look, and makes eye contact with me--and I am by that time clearly irritated--but she does nothing about this kid's attitude.

It takes another three or four minutes to put my order together. One teenager lazily puts fries into cartons, sets them on the warmer, and walks away. Another wanders around aimlessly. The manager has disappeared again. Finally the kid at the register finishes beating up the register, and taking the orders for the people behind me, then goes to bag my order, and--

I watch as he inserts the nuggets, and 2 burgers. And 1 fry. He tries to hand me the bag.

"It's 2 fries," I say, and he gives me a dirty look. I raise an eyebrow, but continue staring. I am not at all intimidated by people like him.

He adds another fry, and virtually flings the bag at me. He then asks, "How's things over at *place i work*?" I tell him, "Understaffed as usual." He then replies, "Well, I'll probably be over there soon then, haHA!" To which I mutter as I drive away, "Over my cold dead body."

I get back to the store, and go to eat. While I did somehow end up with a bonus order of nuggets, I got NO sweet n sour sauce. And each bacon cheeseburger apparently had one quarter of one strip of bacon each; I guess they were too lazy to make more bacon so they ripped apart the one piece they had left.

You think I'd have learned my lesson by now. The time prior to this, they shorted me a chicken nugget and the fry box was mostly empty. The time prior to THAT they managed to take forever (because apparently they couldn't figure out that lettuce, tomato, and mayo go on a Spicy Chicken sandwich), and still managed to futz up my fiance's sandwich (aforementioned chicken) and my double cheeseburger (no ketchup, mustard, or pickles, but approximately 2 metric tonnes of mayo.)

After that last experience, though, I'm really tempted to report to corporate. Who the hell lets their employee say "NO" like that to a customer, and not do anything about it? Makes me irritated just thinking about it again.
Winter

(no subject)

I was reading old livejournal posts of mine, and found this one from over a year ago, which I thought fit in with tonight's theme.

"So I called the dentists office today, set up an appointment for my root canal tomorrow at 11. When I told the receptionist what i needed, she laughed at me."
woe!

Not so much bad service, as "meh" service...

So, I am an expat Scot living in Birmingham, Alabama. I work for a large university.

There is a food section on the ground floor (first floor for leftpondians!) of the building I work in with a Chick-fil-a, a deli that does wraps, and a general canteen food type place.

So, I go to the wraps place, the server asks me what I want.

"Tomato wrap, ham and turkey, mustard, tomatoes, pickles, jalapenos, please!" say I in my Bright! Cheery! voice, looking forward to tasty, spicy, nutritionally balanced (*cough*) wrappy goodness!

The server looks at me with a completely blank expression then chirps out

"Oh! toh-MAY-toes! Why didn't you say!"

.... errm.. I just DID. At that point my Bright! Cheery! mood turned to sullen >< and sad :(

It's a LARGE university - 10s of thousands of students from all over the world - and the building I work in is a hub of student stuff, so why did saying to-MAH-toe cause such a reaction? Surely the servers must be used to getting an international Babel of accents coming through the lines?

Meh. As I say - not bad service, just "meh".

... the wrap *did* taste really good, though :)

*EDITED TO ADD*
This wasn't the first wrap I had from there, nor was it the first time I had spoken with this server - maybe she had just had a really hectic day culminating in a buffer overflow in her language module?