Since I’m regularly infuriated by people in fast food restaurants, and their scattered, shithead ways, it’s very important to me that I not be a hypocrite on the subject. So, when it’s my time to order, I’m always prepared for action.
You’ll never hear me say things like, “So, tell me a little about this… Big Mac sandwich? Is that what it’s called? It sounds interesting. What comes on that?” Or, “Yes, can I get the Whopper, but with the meat higher up in the stack? I prefer it to be above the lettuce and tomato. Also, can you cut all my fries in half? I have trouble with some of the really long ones.”
No, I’m always ready to go, the moment I’m called upon. I clearly enunciate with just enough (but not too much!) information, give the cashier ample breathing room to key everything, and already have my money or bank card in hand at the end of the process. So, there’s no fumbling around in my pockets, or any of that nonsense.
And I work within the accepted framework of whatever restaurant I happen to be visiting. I hate fast food pickles, for instance, but when I’m at McDonald’s I just let it go. It’s a conveyor belt of burgers back there, and it’s not advisable to disturb the rhythm. I just remove the pickles myself, on the back-end. But at Wendy’s they make each burger individually, so I feel comfortable telling them to hold the pickle. It’s a case by case thing, always within the accepted framework.
Then, as soon as the transaction is complete, I step to my left and allow access for the next person in line. I’ve said it a million times before, and I’ll say it again: I’m the guy you want to be in line behind at a fast food restaurant. I am the ideal fast food customer, and fully expect that to be my legacy.
But let me tell you about something that happened at Burger King a few days ago…
I went in there around 10:00 a.m. I’d already been up for hours and wanted lunch. But it was still breakfast in the BK world, so I rolled with it. Respect the framework, remember.
And when it was my time to order, I told the woman I wanted a sausage, egg, and cheese Croissan’wich, and a small soda. The soda is self-serve, so there’s no need to be specific. To say “Dr. Pepper” or “Coke” or whatever, is to open yourself up to complications. Like, “Oh, we’re out of Dr. Pepper today, but we have root beer.” That kind of thing. When it’s self-serve the generic “soda” is preferred.
So, my ordering technique was perfection, as always. But the cashier wouldn’t accept my gift of being a total pro, and insisted on making everything complicated. Usually they recognize the accomplished and polished customer, and appreciate it. But not this chick.
“Do you really want the small soda, or did you mean the value soda?” she asked. What? I don’t like this kind of crap. It adds an unnecessary extra layer to the process. But I said, “Value, I guess.”
And that was a tactical error. It was a gateway to: “The value soda is no-refills. Is that what you want?” What the hell, man?? My order, which was a thing of beauty, was collapsing all around me. Two extra layers now? This was a mess. “Yes, that’s fine,” I said through gritted teeth.
Then, incredibly: “Do you want ketchup?” I’d ordered a sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. Ketchup?? Seriously? This was a bridge too far…
“Why would I want ketchup?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Lots of people like ketchup on their eggs,” she shrugged.
“Like special needs kids, and that kind of thing?”
“So, no ketchup?”
The whole thing was spiraling out of control. My masterpiece was ruined. It was like she drew a set of giant buck teeth on the Mona Lisa. Plus, and this really chaps my ass…, they have ketchup dispensers at Burger King! I hadn’t gotten my order to go, I ate it there. Why was she trying to give me ketchup packets??
It was a disaster of the highest order; my own personal 9/11. I’d offered the gift of perfection, and she slapped it away with all her extra layers and bizarro toppings inquiries. It was awful, I tell you, and after today I will never speak of it again.
hey, i like ketchup on my breakfast sanwiches thank u very much
Disgusting.
Agreed.
Have laminated flash cards made for each fast food chain in your pocket and hand them exactly what you want in writing.. Write:
I AM A DEAF-MUTE “PLEASE PREPARE MY ORDER EXACTLY AS WRITTEN – NO VARIATIONS – THANK YOU!” and see what happens.
I woulda felt the exact same way…..much like when someone is inefficient at a self-check at the grocery store. Puts me in full on stroke mode. Economy of motion is a virtue recognized by the ancients.
YES! “Economy of motion”!
i tell that shit to my wife all the time, and she just looks at me like I don’t know how to organize words into ideas and sentences.
Under all circumstances, obey the economy of motion.
I like it when you only have to wipe once when you shit.
Why do you like it when I only have to wipe once when I shit?
If you only wipe once, how do you know you got it all? You need a negative result before you can say positive result is the final result.
When, on a good firm first wipe there is a negative result, it is a “One wipe, clean swipe!” situation. Just end it.
Ketchup belongs on hamburgers and french fries. Mustard is good on a breakfast sandwich.
Oh, and cooked cabbage, ketchup is good on cabbage.
Oh Lawd!
Double Oh Lawd!
Ketchup is always best in spaghetti.
Why, I’m appalled that airhead didn’t try to sell you hashbrowns.
“Would you like salt?”
“pepper?”
I applaud your self control at not spiking her into the fry vat.
Oh and “It was like she drew a set of giant buck teeth on the Mona Lisa.” LMFAO! priceless.
Heh, “hold the pickle”.
Can you say covert surf reporters messing with Jeff at their jobs at Burger King?
I put ketchup on my eggs too… but it’s not the standard way of preparing eggs, so I understand why the question would fluster you, Jeff. It would be like if someone asked me if I wanted vinegar or mayo with my French fries.
Mayo, hold the fries.
I like mayo on my hot dogs. Does that make me a bad person? Mayo and sweet relish. YUM.
No problem with that at all. But the next time I order a hot dog, I don’t want the vendor to ask me, “Do you want some mayo and sweet relish with that?”
You can make that easier Kuban and just put tartar sauce on your hot dog. Mayo and relish is homemade tartar sauce.
I’m glad other people appreciate efficiency. Even in conversation, I hate it when people add unnecessary information. Such a waste of time.
I f–king love it when I order a cheeseburger and they ask me if I want cheese on it. Dolts!
Holy hairy ball sack of Jack Hannah, Batman.
This kind of shit happens to me all the time, everywhere. I carefully plan out every one of my actions before I go out into public. I make contingency plans in case particular variables are introduced into the course of events. But there is no guarding against fools who recently received a pep talk/you’re about to get fired speech and feel that they must over serve you at the earliest possible time.
Let’s start with Target. I go into the rich man’s walmart to by some pens, or dog treats, or vaginal pump, or something. The thing costs $6. Up until this point I’ve perfected checking out at Target without any interaction between me and the cashier, and with only one fluid motion to pay for my junk.
Cashier swipes the item.
I swipe my card, hit “Yes”, put card in wallet, put wallet in pocket, draw a squiggly line, leave.
But not anymore. I put my card up, and now the cashier needs to see it with a picture ID. Take it back out and do all that. I’m waiting for the cashier to hit the button to signal me to draw my squiggle. But apparently there is a series of questions to answer.
“Do you want to donate money to the Foreskin Awareness Society?”
No.
“Are you a Fry’s Club gas rewards member?”
Fry’s Club, this is Target. WTF?
No.
“Is this amount accurate to charge to your card?”
Yeah motherfucker. Let’s get on with this shit!
“Do you want to put the entire amount on this card?”
No. No I don’t. I want to spread this $6 across a series of 15 various credit, debit, and gift cards to better hide the fact that I bought a personal neck massager with three variable speeds from Target. Although, I appreciate Target supporting my small value money laundering scheme, this particular purchase isn’t applicable.
—–
My wife and I get some fancy douche-bag spray in hair conditioner from the hipster place in the mall. I have only been there once, about a week or two ago, and will never go again. I had planned the entire process out. Go in. Buy product. Leave.
Simple plans are the hardest to let go awry.
Oh but not in the land of misfit beauty school dropouts.
Before the girl with a crooked hairdo rang up my products she asked who my stylist was.
I told her, I don’t have a stylist.
Crooked Hair: You have to have a stylist.
Me: To buy stuff here I have to have a stylist? Why?
Crooked Hair: Well, you need one?
Me: Okay, well sorry I won’t be getting this then.
Crooked hair: You can still buy it, you just won’t get the 5% discount.
Me: I don’t care, just let me buy this stuff.
Crooked Hair: Okay.
Then she rings me up. And notices that the receipt printer is busted. She runs o ff without a word and comes back with No Eyebrows and Zipper Lips.
Zipper Lips: Do you have a stylist?
Me: We’ve been through the stylist thing. Just let me pay and leave.
No Eyebrows: You’ve already paid, we just need you to sign the receipt. (she fixes the machine and hands me the receipt)
Me: *grumble* signs the things and grabs my bag.
Zipper Lips: Oh wait, you can’t take that yet? She only charged you $18.68. It should have been $18.86. We need to finish.
We stand there staring at each other.
And continue to do so.
Me: Okay, let’s get it on.
No Eyebrows: We need your card. (with a bit too much attitude)
Me: Do you take cash?
Them (together): I guess.
Me: Here’s a dollar. (Dropped dollar bill on floor and left)
—–
There should be four times I see a waiter.
Take order
Deliver order
Drop off check
Bring back change
But not at this fancy new, place we tried a few days ago. It’s more represented as:
Greeting
Drink order
Bring drinks
Confirmation that I understand the menu, like I’m a dog trying to work a door knob or something.
Recitation of the specials.
Take order
Do we want olive oil or vinegar with our bread.
Bread delivery.
Do we want pepper in our olive oil.
Do we want another drink. Not refills mind you, do we want a separate drink order with our damn bread.
Deliver order.
Do we want fresh cracked pepper from a the leg of a pirate captain.
Do we want fresh parmesian cheese on our soup (!?!) or veal. (yeah, my wife got soup as an entrée, freak)
Do we want a side order of spiced lentils, or some shit.
Drop off the check.
Pick the check back up before we could pay.
Offer a desert menu.
Do we understand the desert menu.
Take desert order, finally find out we don’t want desert.
Would we like refreshing water (I still don’t know what this is) as a “post-meal stabilizer”.
Would we like coffee or mints. (Really, what the hell? Mother fuckin’ mints?)
Bring check.
Pickup check.
Bring back change.
Next time Jeff goes on sabbatical, YOU should be the guest columnist on the Surf Report. You have the gift, Icecycle (or the properly jaundiced eye, anyway).
icecycle, can you please call my tech support and explan why there is a river of coffee under my keypad? Holy shit, I’m crying here. LMAO.
and please, (because I need a visual) explain “Zipper Lips!” LMFAO. Oh I feel like a re re on the short bus who was just handed a baby Ruth. I can’t stop giggling.
She had a hoop piercing in each corner of her bottom lip and at least three other piercings, in seemingly random places, on her face lips.
Her mouth looked like a zipper that underwent emergency firecracker augmentation.
Dying here… just dying.. with tears streaming down my face…
Funny stuff Ice!
Damn it, man, I have a toddler sleeping in this house, so silence is golden and necessary for my tenuous sanity. I held it together, despite the Foreskin Awareness Society, but lost it totally at “like a dog trying to work a doorknob.” Now I’m hee hawing like a donkey and trying to stifle it. Good stuff!
Wow….what an entry. I can’t stop laughing. Thank you for making my day.
Ho-lee shit. That was the best part of my day so far. Emergency Firecracker Augmentation just put me over the edge.
Funny, funny stuff!!
““Do you want to put the entire amount on this card?””
Yeah that was a WTF moment the first time I heard this.
AND THIS “post-meal stabilizer”, BS? I would have laughed in his face,
A waiter explained how a good sear on the steak “seals in the juices”, and I did laugh in his face. Harold McGee, anyone?
.
Icecycle66 I haven’t laughed so hard since I last
Read Jeff’s article on crapping himself at the Golden
Corral. Thanks for all the tears.
Pfft. The Carl’s Jr. drive thru girl asked me if I wanted ketchup the other day… for my salad.
By the way, this has always bugged me, but are we going with the “ketchup” spelling? Not that I have any problems with that, but this is one of those rare words in the lexicon that has several spellings that are supposedly accepted. “Catsup” and “Catchup” both piss me off something fierce.
Im thinking now that the fast food people are so used to saying “Do you want ketchup?” 100 times a day so it just comes out automatically. Maybe they cant help it.
Yes it becomes VERY automatic. I probably ask each customer twice while they’re at my window.
Just about the same thing happened to me at Wendy’s the other day. Order the chicken cobb salad and asked for a certain type of dressing. When I looked into the bag, there was no dressing, no fork and no napkins. But, they were kind enough to throw a couple packets each of barbeque and sweet and sour sauce in. I high-tailed it back around the store and cut a guy off to get to the main window to complain. The lady looked at me a puzzled, asked me if she could help me and I held up my hand with the five fingers extended. I said “this fork is a little dull, can you give me a new one?”.
Due to similar incidents in the past, I have gotten in the habit of looking in the bag before I leave the drive-thru window. Of course, there have been no visible mistakes since I started doing that.
.
Jeff, how do you survive with no In and Out burgers?
The same way I do, in silent suffering and longing.
We just moved our office to a building next door to In and Out. The situation reminds me of the Far Side cartoon with the Falcon Farm next door to the Miniature Poodle Farm and the caption “Trouble Brewing”.
In and Out fries suck.
Meanwhile on some BK employee’s blog;
“Today I fucked with a guy who thought he would be able to get away without the gauntlet of questions…”
“Would you like to get the extended warranty with that”?
The hell man? I did my home work and feel I made a good choice in my purchase and now someone has to plant a seed of doubt, the size of a goddamn watermelon, in my ass. Look…it’s a piece of shit Coleman cooler that pulgs into my cigarette lighter to keep my beer cold. I ain’t transporting transplant livers for christ sake.The thing cost eighty nine bucks and the one EW is twenty four. I”ll take my chances the thing holds out. If not…I’ll ethier pitch the fucker and drink warm beer or wait until I can get to a bag of fucking ice for three bucks and hang onto it.
We should be able to waive the standard warranty and get money off the previous price.
I moved from Tennessee to Canada 15 yrs ago. McDonalds recently got sausage and biscuits, I think of myself as an expert on the S&B. Well I went in one day and ordered one with mustard and pickle, not an odd thing for the south, and was met with absolute horror. Here where they eat gravy and cheese turds on fries, gravy that smells like horses hooves,
Cheese turds elicited a chuckle from me.
Today’s update is a thing of crystalline beauty. Well done!
hey i’m drinking tonite bitches so here’s a toast to the best bunch of questionable peoples i’ve had the pleasure to know … madz, bikerchick and melissa heres to youse
and to all the lovable dudes (yes even ol jtb and mcfarty appleasspants…or whatever) heres to yous.. i love ya alls..
fuck you grim reaper! I’m gonna start living it up..who’s with me?
lori, I’m with ya! I’ve been living it up for 20 years! No reason to stop, now! Run down to Katzinger’s Deli and get yourself a big-ass #1 (Katzinger’s Reuben), with a side of red skin potato salad! 3rd and Livingston.
lori….. Right back at yinz, sister! Hope you have an ass-slappin’ good time!
Amen, lori – love you, too!
(Do you have a hangover today? Get yourself a big greasy cheeseburger or a pizza pie and a very large Coke – that’ll cure you!)
Yes, I do speak from experience- what of it?
Ooooooooo! Big Mac, largest fries, Coke. Best hangover cure EVER!!
The Coke needs to be the 55-gallon drum size. No other will do.
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just read the update(s) (ice, u have major talent) it made my day i think i pissed myself hahahahaha
greg, ive been wanting to do that for a long time..i think i will do just that love me a reuben..im at the rusty bucket drinking a fruity drink with woodland reserve in it…may have to sleep it off in the car haha im such a lightweight
Good idea. You don’t want to get busted by the Columbus Police!
Which one? Bexley? Dublin? Westerville?
Jeff…
When you are the victim of various crimes and misdemeanors foisted upon you and the general order of the universe, your writing sparkles.
John
the westerville one.. its a nice one
Stay north tonight. You don’t need to go downtown!
Looooori………don’t take your love downtown.
i rarely go downtown..never at night.. when i go to the book loft next i am stopping at katzingers..
“Lots of people like ketchup on their eggs,” she shrugged.
“Like special needs kids, and that kind of thing?”
^^^^ pure comedy gold! ^^^^
I hope I have such presence of mind when my turn comes.
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good talking with you, lori! Have a great evening! You’ll love the deli!
My first morning in the strange world of college, my roommate and I go to breakfast. He puts ketchup on his eggs. I was outraged and disgusted. They also had hot syrup to put on your cold pancakes. Oh, the humanity.
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I work in the food industry and I applaude customers such as yourself. I have customers that come through 3 times a week and still fuck up the “process” every time. Everyone want a tip? This is how to order
1. Combo number
2. Your ingredients (only or without)
3. Choice of side
4. Size of side and drink
5. Drink choice
Since were are listing, here is “the program” for Subway
1. Choose bread THEN length
2. Name sandwich you want
3. Choose your cheese
4. Toasted or not?
5. Condiments/Toppings
6. Tell the reg worker if you want the “combo”
i mess with subway employees
i tell them 6 in suprize me
when they ask the questions i say suprize me
the subway old timers see me coming and start fixing with out asking anything
the pile the stuff on in large amounts
but when they have a rookie they let the rookie get me
i had 1 in tears when i was telling her just suprize me
the older employees gave her rough time about getting up set
Cashier: “why are you punching me in the face?
Customer: “I’m entering my preferences”
I like ketchup on my scrambled eggs…it disguise’ the taste. Blecch. I do like hard boiled eggs …with Franks Red Hot Sauce. But then Franks RHS would be good on a turd on a stick.
. ” My masterpiece was ruined. It was like she drew a set of giant buck teeth on the Mona Lisa”……I have been chuckling over this classic all day!
The one that always kills me is at the self-serve gas pump that’s programmed to ask for your zip code and if you want a car wash tacked onto your total. Zip code? None of your bee’s wax. Car wash? Hells no. It’s always out of order, but will take your money anyway. Getting it refunded is like asking a monkey not to pick it’s ass….impossible. I just want to fill my tank and move along.
Well, if you don’t like scrambled eggs, then why have them? Good scrambled eggs are wonderful, rich and soft and custard-like, and they don’t keep.
I gave a bogus zip code one time, and the piece of shit refused to sell me gas. Fine, I’ll go somewhere else. And I’ll wash the car myself, thanks.
.
I think the zip code thing ties back to your credit card for fraud protection. I think.
It is. Us Canucks going to the US can run into an obstacle trying to pay at the pump if the pump only accepts a US zip code (all numbers) and it’ll refuse to pump even with a valid US zip.
I have this phobia about eggs. I won’t eat them at home but love to go out for breakfast. If I order eggs..scrambled with ketchup. Weird.
Ok Bikerchick. Now that’s just funny! I am crying about “getting it refunded is like asking a monkey not to pick it’s ass… impossible”! Freakin hilarious!
I see this at least once a week.
Shopper unloads cart at Wally World, carefully watches the cashier scan and bag the merchandise, puts the bags in their cart, and then seems totally shocked that they have to actually pay for the merchandise. Not until everything is loaded in the cart do they start digging through their purse for their checkbook or payment method of choice.
Me – upon unloading of shopping cart, push cart to the end of the aisle, proceed to credit card swipe thingy, swipe card, enter pin, THEN start loading my bags in the cart.
Another thing – Cashiers should be trained to rotate the baggage carousel toward the customer so you can load your buggy as soon as the first two bags are full instead of away from you so you have to wait for 4 or 6 bags to be filled.
The last point should be ignored in the rare situation where the cashier has a bagging assistant, then the carousel should rotate toward them.
hi guys woke up today feeling great and no hangover…im not a drinker so the malibu rum/pineapple juice (called a cocksucker so im told) and then a strawberry smash (bourbon , swtrawberry and something else) made me feel good … i was out like a light by 10pm hahahaha
Actually lori…that drink is called a Maliibu Rum and Pineapple Juice. I hope you didn’t say…”Can you make me a Cocksucker?”, because that would be weird. And I have no doubt you’re a lady regardless of what it says on the men’s bathroom wall now.
Atta girl! Never had either drink, but they both sound interesting.
And I’m not sure which side of the fence I mean by that “Interesting” as in “WOW, Yum! Never would have thought of this concoction!” or “Interesting” as in “My stomach lining is now floating in the Hudson River from puking all night.”
Those drinks sound yummy! They would tear my tummy UP! Then I’d have to go to beer…which makes me bloated and gassy. Yes…I’m the life of the party.
Awww crap bickerchick…You know I’m a push over for a pretty girl who walks up to me…looks me in the eye with that…you know…”look”…and says…”Pull my finger”
dto…. Yep! I’ll walk right up to ya, look you in your good eye and say “pull my finger” after I down a 6-pack. Love at first fart.
Jeff, I wish there were more fast food pros like yourself. The world would be a better place.
Here in Alabamie they’re always trying to push “jelly” on you when you buy a breakfast biscuit or anything like that. Always with the fucking jelly.
And this has to be the worst place on earth when it comes to fast food idiots. Everyone stands at the counter acting baffled and they always have a fuckton of questions. “What’s the difference between the regular taco and the taco supreme?” they’ll ask. Sometimes I volunteer the answer to try to move things along. “Sour cream! God Almighty!” But this is a bad move. Idiots are also easily offended, seems like.
I have the best “efficiency of motion”.
Step 1: Tell wife to pick up item at store
That just happened to me last night. My boyfriend wanted Chinese food. Since I was going to be “in the area”, I could just swing by. Yeah. Right.
Only one little chinese lady working. She was taking orders on the phone and cooking too. She opens a door and screams “You come NOW” to someone on the second floor. Seconds later, a little kid, who looks like the son of Fog Horn Leg Horns’ girlfriend, screams back, “HE BUSY”.
I’m looking at the menu during the floor show, Mamma-san keeps asking me “what you want? What u want?!”. As soon as I start to speak, the phone rings. She answers and takes an order. WTF? 20 min just to order, another 20 to wait for the food and 35 bucks later….I’m ready to split down the middle. to top it off, the flimsy fucking box she puts the food in leaks all over my new seat in my Jeep.
Lovin Lori in cbus when she’s tipsy.
…She casts her spells with the craft of a Gypsy…
anybody gonna finish this?
Her wild frantic dance puts a fire in your pants
But she’s got buck teeth and was born in Poughkeepsie
I think I was conceived in Poughkeepsie!
Foreskin Awareness Society…omfg 🙂