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.