KFC drone: and what drink would you like with your meal sir?
Me: orangeade please.
KFC drone:
(short pause in which I realize that drone does not know what ‘orangeade’ means)
Me: Fanta
KFC drone: oh.
Am I old fashioned? do we now live in a world where the brand name is remembered but the description of the product isn’t? or should people know that fanta, sunkist, tango, are all ‘orangeade’ as I expect them to?
Heh. On my way to work last week I called in to a cafe that I have never been to before, and ordered a ‘double-shot’ latte. Pretty standard fare for early morning pick-me-ups, but this joint didn’t seem to understand the significance of the ‘latte’ bit.
I request “easy on the mayo, please”.
They say “whatever, with light mayo”.
Me: No, not “light mayo”, “real mayo”, but not as much as you usually put on it.
In an Italian coffee joint in London, a few years ago (Cafe Nero right at the entrace to Notting Hill Gate station, if you must know).
Me: I’ll have an espresso, please.
Cute but dumb coffee girl: Coming right up.
<I chat with my then-girlfriend, not paying attention to what CBDCG is doing>
CBDCG: There you go, that’ll be <insert GDP of Angola here>.
Me: Errrrr… that’s a cappucino.
CBDCG: Is it? Oh, yeah! I always get the two confused.
Me <bemused>: You get cappucino and espresso confused? Is this your first day perhaps?
CBDCG: No actually, I’ve been here for 6 months. It’s just that my Italian isn’t very good.
I waited for her to finish my espresso, not bothering to continue the conversation after that. Ye Gods.
No, but I routinely order a child sized cheesburger at Wendy’s with tomato.
I have gotten a hamburger (no cheese) with tomato and nothing else, I’ve gotten a cheeseburger with everything but tomato, I’ve gotten a cheeseburger with onion, and the crown jewel of it all: I’ve gotten a bun with a tomato in it.
Fast Food Guy: Do you want Ketchup or Mayonese?
Me: Mayonese.
Fast Food Guy: Sorry, we ran out of Mayonese.
Me: Ok… In that case I’ll take (I made a deliberate pause of 30 seconds here)… Ketchup.
I always get pickles and mayo at BK no matter how many times I say I don’t want them. It’s even printed on the receipt - no pickles, no mayo. What do I get? Pickles and mayo.
And don’t ever, EVER try to order a single burger when they are doing a 2 for 1 special.
Me: I want a Jr. Whopper combo.
BK: It’s 2 for 1 day, you get 2.
Me: No, I just want one, thanks anyway.
BK: …long pause…uh, you can only get 2
Me: Oookay…well, I only want 1, so give me 1 Jr. Whopper and add some fries and a coke.
BK: (Blank stare) You can’t get it that way today.
(Hmmm…What happened to “Have it your way”?)
Me: I can see it RIGHT THERE on your menu listed as a 1 junior whopper. Now add some fries and a coke and we’re done.
BK: (Looking around for help) You can only get 2.
Me: Okay, how about you give me 2 and I’ll GIVE you 1 back??
BK: Uh…you have to take 2.
At this point I gave up before I resorted to strangling her and told her to just give me a #6 - something I totally didn’t want.
Amazingly, I was able to get just 1 of those. :rolleyes:
Two or three times a week I swing through Burger King on the way to work for two sausage and egg crossandwiches. No cheese.
Luckily, now, I’m a regular. But the first few times the “No cheese” thing frightened and terrified the drive-through staff. I never get cheese. However, I do often get my sausage and egg wrapped in buscuits or hamburger buns.:eek:
Ordering anything plain will scare the grease off a BK employee. Mr. Kiger always orders his Whoppers plain with ketchup only. We pause for the inevitable, “Do you want the burger too?” :smack:
I usually order my burgers “plain and dry.” Still, there are many many screwups. I’m always stunned when they ask, “You want the meat too, right?” My first question is, who orders just cheese on a bun? My second question is, if what I wanted WAS cheese on a bun, why would I have ordered the double, instead of the single?
My order is so routinely screwed up that I’ll always check now before even leaving the parking lot. Once, when I checked, they’d given me a single rather than the double I paid for. I went back through the drive-through to get what I’d ordered and paid for. The lackey at the window evidently thought that my problem was with the wrapper. “We’re out of double wrappers.” When I responded, “That’s not a double, dude,” he said, “Sir, you don’t have to get rude with me, I’m not a cook.” Not a cook? What the hell does that have to do with being able to tell a single from a double? Because I don’t take kindly to being called “rude,” especially when I don’t think I was rude, I countered with, “Well, can you count to two?” to which he did not respond.