Guest Mock: Fast food employees or rather the ones I always come across
In what’s quickly becoming the rule rather than the exception, I am relying on the guest mock to get me through another Monday. This one is from “Enraged” and it’s pretty good. Unfortunately, Enraged didn’t give me a site to plug or anything. And as we all know, it’s difficult to find someone who’s enraged on the internet, so we may never know their true identity. I guess it will always be a mystery, at least we’ve got the kickass mock. And each other, of course:
Every once in a while, I decide to go through a drive thru, mostly because I would rather not deal with the crowds and the obesity that often comes with going inside a fast food establishment. When going through a drive thru, often times my experience is always a bad one.
I’ve come to realize that it must take a college education to take orders and make sure everything that is supposed to be in the bag is actually in the bag. In retrospect you, yes you the employee, must have a tremendous amount of stupidity crushed into that minuscule brain of yours. Does it take a lot of brain power to fake politeness or even a scrap of intelligence? I fake politeness at my job, and I am a lowly cashier as well as you are. Perhaps my job is a step up from serving heart attack burgers or artery clogging death fries, but I do believe the concept of faking politeness is the same here as it is anywhere.
Being a gangsta or a snappy no nonsense female is out of the question. I want smiles, and fake cheerfulness, and I want you to be able to read what I have ordered and be able to apply it. What say you this; you come to my store and I “forget” to put something in your bag. Would you be angry with me? Would you complain? Of course you would. So don’t give me that exasperated sigh when I pull around again and point out that you forgot my fries. It isn’t my fault, it is yours you stupid woman.
If I acted the way you always seem to act to me, the employees of your dining establishment would call me all manner of things and do god knows what to my food; so while you sigh that exasperated sigh, and talk to me like a “gangsta” I am forced to take it with gritted teeth and the thought, “Never again.” Of course, I don’t mean it, and you’ll be seeing my face through your window next week.
What disturbs me the most is that you handle my food. I don’t even know if you wear gloves, or for that matter, actually wash those nasty nose picking hands. If I do ever get the courage to say something (Like the brave Jeff Kay), I know I can never return, and there is the risk of you “accidentally” dropping my food on the ground.
That is something I cannot risk, and perhaps that is why you think you can be so rude. You can get away with acting that way to the customers. Yes, you idiotic excuse for a human, you have the power over me.
Anyway, I know your job sucks, and I understand that it is tiring, but if it is the only job that does not require a drug test for you to work there, I would expect that you would put a little bit more effort into making sure customers are happy.
That picture is almost as nightmare-inducing as the pole dancer on thewvsr. I may never eat fried chicken again.
Yes you will. In fact right now you are thinking that a nice breast and cole slaw would be just the ticket.
You are right, Chuck…along with a couple of biscuits. and maybe some baked beans, with the big-ass chunks of pork in them.
Damn…now I’m hungry.