The Three Questions Lady

Two things you probably already know about me: I like swearing and I like ranting. Today’s post will include both, and I also intend to show just how little it takes to set me off! Three simple questions could do it at any given time! Enjoy!

I was working at the counter today rather than spending my whole shift in the drive thru. When you’re working at the counter, you help the drive thru team if you’re not busy.

I wasn’t busy so I went over to the window to hand out an order that was ready.

A lady is sitting there, waiting in a blue car (not the racist in a blue car, I’ve made up my mind that if she comes back, I’m going to tell her to go fuck herself, and then deny it. I’ve been there for years and never done anything like that, she’s a racist. I think the manager will take my side.) This is a-totally-unrelated-probably-not-racist-lady-in-a-blue-car. I give her the drink, followed by the bag of food. “Here you are, have a nice day.”

“What kind of pop is this?” Are you fucking kidding me lady? Standard question in my *ahem* chosen profession: ‘fries and cola with that?’ FOR THE SAKE OF MY SANITY, PLEASE FUCKING PAY ATTENTION.

I look back at the screen to see. “It’s Cola ma’am.” WHY IN THE FUCK DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT DRINK YOU PAID FOR?

“OK, is there lots of ketchup in the bag?” Ummm, I fucking doubt it since it was ready when I got here and YOU DIDN’T ASK ME FOR ANY. Do you have any idea how dumb that question is? There’s not likely to be ANY fucking ketchup in the bag, nevermind ‘lots’. Stupid bitch.

“I doubt it, but I’ll get you some,” as I reach for some ketchup packets. ‘Lots’? How the hell am I supposed to know what ‘lots’ is to you? You have one goddamned order of french fries, are you stocking up at home? Really, who cares if I know what ‘lots’ means to you, why the hell would you need THAT much anyway? “Here you go” I say as she cups her hands together apparently so she can handle this bounty of ketchup packets she thinks she’s about to receive. What is this, the fucking ketchup kitchen? Fuck off lady.

“One more thing,” she says, JESUS LADY, THE DRIVE THRU IS SUPPOSED TO BE FAST. “Is the receipt in the bag?”

I know she doesn’t know that I didn’t put the food in the bag, but THE FUCKING BAG IS IN YOUR HAND LADY. I CANNOT SEE THROUGH THE BAG. I look behind me, the receipt is not on the receipt printer, so I would assume it’s in the bag. “I didn’t get the bag ready ma’am, I only came over to help and just handed it out, it should be in the bag,” I say politely.

She looks in the bag. This endeavour took way to many seconds. I LIVE MY DRIVE THRU LIFE IN SECONDS PEOPLE, HURRY THE FUCK UP. After a little digging around she looks up with a ‘proud of herself look’ and exclaims “Oh yes, it’s here. Thank You.” She smiles and drives off.

No, THANK YOU for getting the fuck out of the drive thru – FINALLY. People in the line are possibly starving at this point, and it’s your fault lady. Go fuck yourself. See, I told you it didn’t take much to set me off.

 

 

The Blue Car Lady

This is an open letter to the lady in the blue car that passed my window but it needs an introduction that contains a little background. Here it is: We have an employee on staff named Kenny. Kenny is Filipino. Kenny came here looking to make a better life for his family – which I assume is what my ancestors did at some point seeing as I’m not Native American Indian with my entire bloodline born and raised here. His English is fantastic, and he’s damn good in the drive thru. He should be, I trained him myself.

He often works in the drive thru when I’m not there, and sometimes with me when I am there. Today was one of the times when I was there working with him. We had a customer asking for a poutine with her combo, but she was also asking for the fry and drink to be upsized. Dumb bitch.

You cannot upsize a poutine.

Customer: I’ll get the number four combo with a poutine and cola.

Kenny: Alright, is there anything else?

Customer: Can you upsize the fry and drink?

Kenny: I thought you wanted a poutine?

Customer: Can you upsize the fry and drink?

Kenny: Do you want a fry AND a poutine?

Customer: NO I WANT YOU TO UPSIZE IT.

Kenny:  We cannot upsize a poutine ma’am.

Customer: UPSIZE THE DRINK.

Kenny: Ok, $8.50, first widow please.

The woman drives up, pays, and then advances to the second window. Kenny gives her the upsized cola. She asks him to talk to me. Please realize that she DID NOT ask for a manager, she asked for me, apparently because I’m Canadian.

I go over to the window, “Is there something I can help you with?”

She starts “Yeah, the last couple of times I came here, the employee, and it’s always that guy (pointing to Kenny) can’t understand me. We’re in Canada here; you guys need to get some Canadians in the drive thru that speak English.”

I was kind of shocked. I didn’t really know how to respond to (yes, I know I said once before that I don’t think cunt is ever an appropriate term to use, but) this racist cunt. I stammered a bit and said “Well ma’am, he works here full time and is always in the drive thru, he serves several hundred other people each day and everything seems to be fine. I’m an employee that works for this company, I don’t hire the other employees, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him, or his English. Would you like to speak to the manager?”

“No, just, whatever, I’ve said my piece, let your manager know and hire some English people, I think I’m speaking pretty clear English.”

“Ok,” I said and handed her the food. “Did you need anything else?”

“No.” She took the food and drove off.

Kenny asked me, “What did she say?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” I said.

“She hates me because I’m not Canadian, I heard her” he responded.

“Whatever, don’t worry about it, she was a fucking bitch” I replied.

This is an employee who wants nothing more than a better life for his family and he was just put down for no reason other than his different nationality by one of the stupidest bitches I have EVER dealt with. I assume she was born and raised here. That’s really too bad, she should have been an abortion.

I asked the guy who collected the money if she said anything to him and he told me that he has seen the same lady once before and she had the same attitude.

The more I thought about it after, the more it upset me. If I didn’t need this job, there are so many different things I could have said to her:

-“Oh do you hate everyone that isn’t white?” followed by a nice window slam.

-“If you don’t like it, then don’t fucking eat here.” followed by spitting on her.

-“FIRE IN THE HOLE” as I over hand threw the food bag into her car like a grenade.

-“Hold on a minute while I get the manager” then unzip my pants and piss into her car. “Here’s the manager and I think he wants me to kick you the fuck out.”

I told my boss about this by asking “Would I get in trouble if I told someone to fuck off?”

I’ve been there for a long time, and I’ve worked side by side with this guy for years so he obviously realized that I didn’t say that. “Probably not,” he responds “but so I can cover for you, what did you do?”

That made me smile, and I explained what had happened. He pulled Kenny into the conversation at this point, told him to forget about it because some people are fucking assholes and advised him that the next time she wanted to talk to someone to get him specifically and he would tell her to “Stick her nine dollars up her inappropriate-for-Canadian-society-ass.” I swear, I don’t get raises for making my boss look good in my blog, he’s just so awesome that his comments always come up. Seriously, he doesn’t even know I have a blog.

Unfortunately, I need to keep my job so I can’t speak freely to customers at work and my only forum for complaint is this blog. If I could get away with saying what I felt, I would. So here is the open letter:

Dear Racist Cunt,

Go fuck yourself and never come here again. I would never consider doing something bad to a customer’s food, but I wouldn’t feel bad about shitting in your pop glass. Do the World a favour, and go die.

Sincerely,

Drive Thru Guy

Food Stories Nominee For Excellence in Storytelling

I am proud to be a Food Stories Nominee For Excellence in Storytelling over at Food Stories Blog! I was nominated by Vicky Leung from Menu By Vicky. Thanks Vicky!

Here are the requirements:

1. The nominee should visit the award site here and leave a comment indicating that they have been nominated and by whom. (This step is so important because it’s the only way our judges will know who is being considered for the monthly presentation).

2. The Nominee should thank the person that nominated them by posting & including a link to their blog.

3. Share one random thing about yourself in your blog post.

4. Select at least five other bloggers that you enjoy reading their stories and nominate them for the award.

5. Notify your nominees by leaving a comment on their blog, including a link to the award site (http://foodstoriesblog.com/food-stories-award/).

Food Stories will put together a team of judges to review all nominees and to select a Food Stories Award Winner for each month. More information to come on what fabulous opportunities await for those lucky winners!

Something random about myself: I make my own beer at home, saves piles of money. I like beer, what can I say?

My nominees are (in no particular order):

The Bitchy Waiter – Great food service stories

On Station Two – More great food service stories

Make Eat Simple – Great food website

The Slightly Cranky (Former) Waitress – Ok, ok, so not food service stories anymore, but great archives related to food, and great dealing with the general public stories.

Jodi Ambrose Blog – Have recently seen some great recipes here!

 

 

The Beep That Broke The Drive Thru Guy’s Back

Starting on the first of May each year, we have a freezer filled with many magical and delicious ice cream flavours and it’s a big hit. In fact, there’s a couple who comes through every day and orders two cones. One, with two scoops of vanilla, and the second, one scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough with the second scoop made of half chocolate and half strawberry. The second is a pain in the ass and a speed nightmare, but we’re here to please (usually).

So, two cars after the most condescending bitch I’ve ever dealt with and the debit machine in drive thru goes down.

The person collecting at the first window informs us of this situation over the headset so my boss tells me to hold the car at the speaker and heads to the debit machine to check out the problem. “Hi, I’ll be with you in a moment” I say. There’s no point in lining up a bunch of orders and THEN telling them our debit machine is down, it just makes for a big clusterfuck.

He has to reset the machine, and that doesn’t work so he gets another machine from front counter and hooks it up to try that. Now, this all takes time with the plugging and unplugging and rebooting, etc.

I can hear the driver that I’ve asked to wait talking to her passenger…. and to me. Based on the comments, I know that she knows I can hear her.

‘What the fuck is taking them so long?’

‘Jesus, they better have everything ready when we get there.’

‘I wonder if our food will be comped because they’ve been fucking around for so long in there.’

‘Fuck, what are they doing?’

It hasn’t been THAT long. Under four minutes, which clearly is WAY above our time goal, but it’s a technical problem, and not something we had control over. My boss comes up and tells me that the debit is down, he can’t fix it, so I’m to let the customer know and take the order.

As if by some form of all-knowing-asshole-magic the customer knew just at that moment… “UHHHH, FUCK, HELLO?”

I am livid at this point. “My debit machine just went down so it’ll be cash only, what can I get for you?” I bark, hoping they don’t have cash and will just fuck off.

She laughs a bit, likely impressed with her fat self that her comments have pissed me off and she can tell by my not so cheery voice. “Well get two of the two scoop cones, one with vanilla and the second with one scoop of cookie dough with the second scoop made of half chocolate and half straw-“

I cut her off “Yeah I know, I make it every day.”

She doesn’t seem so impressed anymore (I guess she shouldn’t have been being such a bitch) “Well can you wait until we get to the window to make it so it’s not all melted?”

Meanwhile, we’ve cleared all the cars and there is no one ahead of them “No, you’re the only car in line and it’s already made, pull up please.”

She doesn’t respond and pulls up. Someone else gives her the cones and she leaves. Will she be back tomorrow? I don’t know, or care. I think cunt is a very strong and generally inappropriate word for any circumstance, but she will forever be known as ‘the ice cream cunt’ in my mind.

A while later, after it slowed down a bit I was dwelling on these incidents and felt bad about the way I had spoken to the second customer. I told my boss that I had been rude to her because she was cursing over the speaker. He shrugged and said “I guess that fuckin’ cum junkie should learn some manners then, don’t worry about it.”  BEST BOSS EVER!

So there you have it, the tale of the two customers and the beep that broke the Drive Thru Guy’s back.

Special Presentation

Part 2 of “A Tale of Two Customers” at Life in the Drive Thru has been preempted by this special presentation of the Sunshine Blogger Awards.

Wow! Another blogging award! Jodi Ambrose must love hearing about Life in the Drive Thru. She has nominated me again for a second award! The Sunshine Blogger Award and I’m Thrilled! Thanks Jodi! Much appreciated! If you haven’t already, take some time to check out her blog, it’ll be worth your time, guaranteed!

Rules to Accept the Award:

  1. Include the award logo in a post or somewhere on your blog.
  2. Answer 10 questions about yourself.
  3. Nominate 10 to 12 other fabulous bloggers.
  4. Link your nominees to the post and comment on their blog, letting them know about the award.
  5. Share the love and link the person who nominated you.

As for nominees, I’m a fairly new blogger and this is my second nomination in less than two months so in the interest of not naming the same list as last time, I looked around wordpress for some great (new to me) blogs. Here are the blogs I came across that are worth a look! Some are links to the main page, some are links to a specific post that I enjoyed. Check them out!

1. Literally Impossible

2. Daily Snort

3. The Insanity Aquarium

4. Reheated Coffee

5. The Eclectic LadyBird

6. Thomas Ryan: Independent Writer

7. Multifarious Meanderings

8. Drunk Good Idea/Sober Bad Idea

9. DON’T ASK with JD Mader

10. Is It Possible To See It All

As for the questions about myself, I’m going to leave that to the comments. Ask what you’ve always wanted to know about Drive Thru Guy, and I’ll answer! Well, within reason, remember that DTG has a secret identity so I may not be able to answer everything!

Thanks again to Jodi Ambrose for this nomination! Part 2 of “A Tale of Two Customers” at Life in the Drive Thru will continue… Tune in tomorrow night!

A Tale of Two Customers

Today I was rude to someone. I know this is not the ideal thing for me to do, but I couldn’t contain myself. I felt kind of bad about it after, because it wasn’t really entirely the ladies fault, but let’s just say that she was the beep in the headset that broke the Drive Thru Guy’s back. I cannot say straw and camel because if the two fat bitches in the upcoming tale were on a camel, they’d surely break its legs. Let’s get on with this ranting good time!

The first lady pulled up and I answered “Hi, can I take your order?”

“Yes, I’ll get the two pieces of chicken and a root beer and a dish of the soup of the day and a root beer” Hmmmm, some of those words seem like they FORM A COMBO LADY. Also, why are you asking for pop twice? Do you want two drinks?

“Ok, so the 2 piece combo with soup and a root beer?” I repeat.

“Well do you have a soup combo?” she asks. You can get the soup instead of fries for no additional charge. I assume this is what she wants to know. Never assume.

“Yes, you can get the soup in a combo” I respond.

“Ok, I’ll have that then.”

“Alright so did you still want the extra root beer?”

“Well no, I don’t want an extra one if it comes in the combo,” she snaps back.

“Alright, $7.88, first window please.”

She pulls up to pay and then arrives at my window. I hand her the pop and a bag with her chicken and soup. She hands the pop to the passenger and then tells me she’s missing a root beer. JESUS LADY WE JUST WENT OVER THIS. I’m not rude, but I do wonder if she is off her fucking meds. “I thought you didn’t want the second root beer ma’am?”

She glares at me, smirks a bit, and doesn’t say a word, but instead looks through her bag. “What did you charge me for?”

“I charged you for a two piece chicken combo with soup instead of fries and a root beer” I respond.

She grins a bit, shakes her head back and forth and looks over to her passenger to whom she says ‘Unbelievable, well here’s YOUR root beer I guess.’ She looks back at me and says “No, I wanted the two piece combo with fries and a root beer and the soup combo with root beer. Is that not what I just paid 8 dollars for?” Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME LADY? If you think two combos anywhere comes to $8 then either you’ve never been out before or something is seriously wrong with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry” I exclaim, “I thought you wanted the soup instead of the fries. We don’t have just the soup and a drink as a combo. So you need a fry and another root beer?”

Then, in the most condescending voice I have EVER heard (and I have heard some doozies) she hands the bag back into the window and says “Why don’t YOU just TAKE THIS BAG back inside and GET ME WHAT I ORDERED.” She’s not yelling or anything, but she obviously thinks I am the dumbest person on the planet and she is the best communicator of her generation.

“I don’t need the bag back ma’am” I respond, “I’ll put the fries in another bag and get you another pop.” I close the window and head over to the fry area where I ask the fry person for their oldest fries. I put them in a bag with a straw and then go back to hand them out with the root beer (at no extra charge as we chalk this sort of thing up to employee error). “Sorry for the mix up ma’am” I say as I hand out the bag.

“Well, first you tell me you have a soup combo, and then you tell me you don’t. Whatever.” She says as she drives off. Whatever is right lady, if I owned this place, I’d tell you stick your $8 up your fat ass and never come back here. A soup combo? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? Fuck I hope you get beaten on the street in a random attack later this afternoon.

Two cars later, and I get Fat Bitch # 2. The beep in the headset that broke the Drive Thru Guy’s back.

To be continued…

I Wrote A Guest Post!

I am incredibly happy to announce that  earlier today I was honored to be a guest blogger over at Dumbass News. This is a great blog to read, and if you haven’t already, you should definitely check it out to stay up to date with all the latest dumbass happenings. I’d also like to take a moment to thank the Fearless Leader of the Dumbass Horde for asking me to write a guest post. Thanks!

You can specifically see my guest post here. So go check it out already!

-Drive Thru Guy

 

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