A simple question: Why would you work with the public if you are a complete jerk incapable of maintaining a positive attitude? This question would be best asked to the management of the Hardee’s on Wire Road.
I left class this morning with a mission. I’ma drive down Wire Road, in the opposite direction of my bed, to buy a tasty-looking and much-hyped Country Breakfast Burrito. I have a fascination for multiple food groups rolled in flour tortillas, and I wanted to sample this delicacy before it was discontinued.
I arrived at Hardee’s and was a little dismayed at the long drive-thru line. However, my hunger boosted my resolve, and I pressed on. Admittedly, the line did seem to be moving quite briskly. It was almost my turn to order, but since someone from Auburn public safety insisted on leaving 4 car lengths of space in front of him, I had to wait unnecessarily. I finally reach the order box thing. Silence.
Finally, a voice whispered to me, “himayitakeyoorderwouldyouliketotryblahblahblah,” amid static galore.
“I would like two Country Breakfast Burritos, and I have a coupon for $1 off one of them.” Yes, I had a coupon. Don’t judge me.
“I would like two Country Breakfast Burritos, and I have a coupon for $1 off one of them.”
Silence. Silence. More silence. And just to mix things up a bit, some more silence.
“I don’t know if you need anything else from me, but I’m going to pull up to the window.” It was the only logical thing for me to do, because there were now four car lengths of space in front of me.
I got to the window, and the woman gives me the crummiest look I have ever seen from a service employee. “threefiddysix.”
“That was for two Country Breakfast Burritos?”
“Is there a problem, ma’am?”
“Excuse me? I placed my order. Twice. And I heard no confirmation that it was even heard. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t paying for the guy’s order who is behind me.”
“I’m sorry, but I had no indication that you had even heard my order.”
I hand her my card, because I am hungry, and I have a coupon. She handed me my receipt with one hand, and my bag with her other hand. As if I’m going to sprout and odd appendage to accomplish the task of putting away my wallet for me.
I noticed at this time that her nametag said “Manager” on it. I said to her in as calm of a tone as I could muster, “You’re a member of management. You should know better than to act that way.” And I drove off.
Here’s the skinny. She should know better, and I don’t think I was out of line either. Service was poor from the moment my order was apparently taken. I work with the public every day. I’ve even worked in the fast food business, and I know that no matter how bad your day is, you have to put on a smiley face. Why? Because the person buying a burrito from you doesn’t pay money to get a piece of your problems. They pay for a piece of bacon, some hash rounds, gravy and other delicious breakfast foods rolled up together as one entree.
Whatever this woman’s problem is, she better get over it. I’m not going to boycott Hardee’s. I’m not going to call their corporate headquarters. I’m going to give her a couple weeks to chill out, and write it off as a bad experience. However, if my next visit to that establishment should prove to be equally unpleasant, I’m going to unleash World War III on the joint.