Dammit!
Sometimes, it's the little things . . .
The goddamned Taco Bell by us -- for however long it's been now, they've been using that place to train new people and the person running the register NEVER knows how to use the fucking thing (never the same person, either). I swear I just wanted to jump over the counter and place my own order. We were third in line and it took over 15 minutes for us to get to placing our order. THEN, of course since we add or change things, she didn't know what the fuck to do. Jason ordered something with chicken on it instead of beef and she hit a button, said okay and he ordered his next thing -- but I knew she hadn't changed it to chicken. So I asked her -- did you get that it's chicken and not beef? Oh -- uh, yeah -- she had to call someone over for like the 5th goddamned time to help her change it. She was just going to leave it beef and let it be wrong.
FINALLY, we get a total out of her, and I give her EXACT CHANGE so she won't have an aneurysm or otherwise strain herself. I'm actually thinking this. $11.67. Here you go -- here's a ten dollar bill, a one dollar bill, two quarters, a dime, a nickel and two motherfucking pennies. $11.67. She puts the money into the register, retrieves a nickel, and gives it to me. I tell her "I gave you exact change. I don't think this is mine." Jason's ready to have an aneurysm himself at this points and is trying to tell me to just take the nickel. No, I'm not going to -- her register's gonna be fucked up. It was going to be anyway, but not because I took change that I knew I wasn't supposed to get. Damn the nickel.
Now, in her defense, the register did say $.05 change -- but that can only mean she put the wrong amount that I gave her in the first place. Because the receipt clearly stated $11.67. And that's what I handed her. GAH!
Meanwhile, the 92 other TB employees swarming around the place couldn't be bothered to save this girl until it was too late. They have two people working the 3-foot square space in the drive-thru even though there's only one muddaphuckin window, and this girl is by herself and there's a second register doing nothing. Time to stop yammering on in whatever foreign language that is back there and help this helpless newbie work the register, mmmmmkay? Fuck!
I know it's just a fast-food place, but I worked in a pizza restaurant when I was a teenager making my measly $3.35 an hour and I was good at it. So whatever.
The goddamned Taco Bell by us -- for however long it's been now, they've been using that place to train new people and the person running the register NEVER knows how to use the fucking thing (never the same person, either). I swear I just wanted to jump over the counter and place my own order. We were third in line and it took over 15 minutes for us to get to placing our order. THEN, of course since we add or change things, she didn't know what the fuck to do. Jason ordered something with chicken on it instead of beef and she hit a button, said okay and he ordered his next thing -- but I knew she hadn't changed it to chicken. So I asked her -- did you get that it's chicken and not beef? Oh -- uh, yeah -- she had to call someone over for like the 5th goddamned time to help her change it. She was just going to leave it beef and let it be wrong.
FINALLY, we get a total out of her, and I give her EXACT CHANGE so she won't have an aneurysm or otherwise strain herself. I'm actually thinking this. $11.67. Here you go -- here's a ten dollar bill, a one dollar bill, two quarters, a dime, a nickel and two motherfucking pennies. $11.67. She puts the money into the register, retrieves a nickel, and gives it to me. I tell her "I gave you exact change. I don't think this is mine." Jason's ready to have an aneurysm himself at this points and is trying to tell me to just take the nickel. No, I'm not going to -- her register's gonna be fucked up. It was going to be anyway, but not because I took change that I knew I wasn't supposed to get. Damn the nickel.
Now, in her defense, the register did say $.05 change -- but that can only mean she put the wrong amount that I gave her in the first place. Because the receipt clearly stated $11.67. And that's what I handed her. GAH!
Meanwhile, the 92 other TB employees swarming around the place couldn't be bothered to save this girl until it was too late. They have two people working the 3-foot square space in the drive-thru even though there's only one muddaphuckin window, and this girl is by herself and there's a second register doing nothing. Time to stop yammering on in whatever foreign language that is back there and help this helpless newbie work the register, mmmmmkay? Fuck!
I know it's just a fast-food place, but I worked in a pizza restaurant when I was a teenager making my measly $3.35 an hour and I was good at it. So whatever.
posted by PlatinumGirl at 1:11 PM
1 Comments:
Just a note of solidarity:
I remember that $3.35/hr! It was McDonalds, they made us scrub baseboards on school nights off the clock, and we had to be good at it or we were out.
(Then, when you got to $3.60/hr, they found an excuse to fire you to save the $0.25/hr.)
Post a Comment
<< Home