Say a prayer for the late shift fast food employees of the world.

The BBQ Pit
1

I just spent 7.42 hours of my life that I will never regain. 7.42 hours of working the Arby’s drive through on a warm friday night in Baton Rouge, LA. 7.42 hours of taking orders from drunk frat/sorroity girls/boys. 7.42 hours of
being called “baby” “gorgeous” “sweet thing” “hey, girl” “whatever your nametag says”. 7.42 hours with one 15 minute break of smelling roast beef and a wide variety of fried products that smell like sweat; then after an hour EVERYTHING starts to smell like sweat; after 7.42 hours everything starts to taste like sweat; even the oxygen inside of an establishment such as Arby’s starts to taste like sweat. 7.42 hours of pure hell.

Oh, don’t get me wrong…I like this job(and it is temporary), its the people, all fast food consumers that wander into Arby’s, that I loathe. I hate them all, from the Tard Squad (that’s another story) to the said frat/sorrority boys/girls. I hate them all. They are all the bain of my existance. I want them all to die a death of being boiled in non-animal fat shortening inside a stainless steal vat.

I am tired now. I am now going to sleep until I wake up. And when I wake I am going to chain smoke and study for my Latin final until 8pm, when I have to go to work…and then from 8pm until 3am when I am at work I will block out all events. I will be a zombie. I will reply to every “hey, baby” with a nod and a sweet smile. And then I will sleep until I wake up and do it all over again. Say a prayer for the late shift fast food employees of the world. Say a prayer for me. Say a prayer…just say a prayer.

Lynn “Hi, Welcome to Arby’s! May I take your order?” {last name deleted. -Lynn}

[Edited by Lynn Bodoni on 04-21-2001 at 07:43 PM]

2

There’s a trick to working as a non-skilled laborer. You’re going to get a shitload of lousy customers, assholes that make you wanna run up the nearest bell tower. To keep sane, you have to lock onto the customers that are NICE… the ones that treat you with respect. They’re few and far between, I know, but you’ll get them, occasionally. Just remember them. Remember what they say, the pleasant smile they give you, the politeness with which they order their meal. So the next time that bitter old woman is screaming at you because there’s not enough carbonation in her soda or because her ketchup is too red, just let your mind drift back to that random shmoe who, three days earlier, actually said “Have a nice day” to you, and seemed like he genuinely meant it.

3

That reminds me of last week when a girl came in, threw her sandwich on the counter and DEMANDED to see the manager. Ricky, the manager, came in, apologized and gave her a new sandwich. Five minuttes later she came back, (and I kid you not) tears were streaming down her face, she threw the two halves of the sandwich on the counter, and SCREAMED “This is not a hard sandwich to make! Why can’t you just not put mayo on it!?” Me and the other guy behind the counter burst out laughing at her, I know that was kind of mean, but it was just so unbelievable comical. She then screamed for us to get Ricky again, which we did (everyone who comes into a place and demands to see the manager always thinks that all the employees are going to get caned because THEY’RE dissatified). She tearfully explained that her order was messed up again so he personnally went and made it for her. He laughed at her too, after she left. I have seen the lowest of human behavior working at this place. Fast Food workers are seen as low-lifes but, sheesh, the shit I’ve seen people do. It’s like everything that evolution has strived for is shed from all human beings when they step through into threshold of a fast food place.

4

I’ve never understood that either. Most often, when somebody complains about me, the manager calms them down, then talks to me at the end of the shift.

“The guest said her food took half an hour, that it was cold, and that orders taken after hers were delivered first. Can you explain that?”

“Yeah, she’s lying.”

“That’s what I figured.”

Managers are very good at distinguishing genuine complaints from hysterical whiners, and I get very few of the former. Yet somehow, these people figure if they tell a manager on me, I’ll be walking out five minutes later with my tail between my legs and my severance pay in hand.

5

Find a cute co-worker to ogle and flirt with. That’s how I got through 43 months at McDonald’s.

6

And oh yeah, I agree with SPOOFE, too. I work at a sit-down family restaurant, which may be quite different, but 90% of the customers are great, and there are a few regulars who are polite to a fault. They make the 9% who are indifferent and the 1% who are truly awful worth enduring.

7

I think everyone ought to work at least 6 months in the food service industry at sometime in their life, preferrably when they’re young.

That way, they’ll get to see how cheaply they’re treated, both by the public and management (at least corporate management, local managers can be pretty cool). Hopefully they’ll remember the way they were treated and have some consideration for the food service people who wait on them.

8

Good idea, Freyr.
And after six months in the food service industry, they have to do six more months working in retail, and the six months must cover Back-to-School, the Christmas season and inventory.
Being on the other side of the counter makes you realize how shitty those jobs really are.

9

I worked at McDonalds for a year when I was in High School. It really, really sucked. Plus, it was in an area of Los Angeles where you would have occasional run-ins with gang banger punks who thought it was funny to smear ketchup on the windows for me to clean up.

My favorite story. McDondalds introduced a McSteak sandwich which didn’t go over well at all. As an inducement for the public to buy the wretched things an ad was run in the paper with coupon for a free steak knife if you bought a McSteak. My manager wisely decided to not take part in that promotion figuring that free knives + gang banger punks = bad combination.

One day this middle aged lady comes in and orders a McSteak and hands me the coupon. I told her that we aren’t giving out the knives. She put the coupon in my face as if it was a fucking madate from god or something and demanded her knife. I calmly pointed out to her the small print which read [sub]“At Participating Locations Only”[/sub] and that we were not a participating location. She walked out in a huff and told me to cancel her order and that she was never going to come back ever again. As if I came even close to giving a shit. I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean this was the busiest McDonalds on the West Side and her business didn’t matter in the least. I told her, “It’s McDonalds, you’ll be back.” Of course she was back the next week but she never ordered from me again.

Haj

10

I spent 6 months at a motorway service station. While I was there, I was aware of 3 things:

  1. The prices are waaaay over the odds
  2. The food is crap
  3. The customers and staff are assholes

On my first day it was moderately busy, so I had to deal with more customers than I would have liked. As it is my first day, I have no idea where some of the things are.

I ask someone else who works there if they will sort out a lady who is asking for special tea. She says that its no problem, and she’ll finish up with the customer she is currently helping and get with her in a minute. I pass this message on, and the lady is fine with that.

But not her husband. He walks over and sees me serving someone else. Without talking to his wife, he calls me over. I am an “arrogant cunt” and he will “talk to the manager.” His wife seemingly forgets the conversation I had had with her and is right behind him.

The manager listens intently to their complaints and when they leave, he laughs.

People also seem to whisper to each other in a very non-subtle way;

“£1.50 for a cup of tea! We won’t come here again.”

Like I care. I get paid the same whether you spend money or I’m sat on my arse talking to the guys at the back.

And my third and final complaint.

We ran out of cups. There are 300-odd cups around the place, and we ran out. How? Well, y’see, the person who is washing the dishes is Portugese. The person who is doing some management job out the back is Portugese. They are the only Portugese people in the building. When they are together, they mysteriously cannot speak or understand any English. Because one of them is management, we can’t complain.

So I’m out the front getting screamed (literally) at, and they are having a little laugh out the back. That was enough for me. I walked out. Screw 'em.

I’ve got plenty more stories… soon :smiley:

11

Hehe, I got the real shitty end of the deal. I’m the closing manager at McDonalds. We close at 1 during the week, and 2 on weekends. So not only do I have to be there deep into the night, I have to work long shifts to. Because dinner, of course, starts at 5, I have a 10 hour shift, minimum usually. And I’m the one who has to distinguish between the genuine complaints, and the losers. We get all sorts of assholes, up in our faces screaming, it’s great. We’re underpaid (I know crew people who make more than managers…), we put up with everyone’s shit, we work insane hours, and we have to smile the whole time. And that reprimanding that people get when the customers complain? I’ve seen crew members get reemed for stuff that genuinely wasn’t their fault, like Joey and the guy from Taunton. It’s very much not worth it. But hey, it’s helping my resume…

12

He called you a CUNT? I wouldn’t care, I would NOT put up with that.

I’d reccommend Customer’s Suck: http://www.customerssuck.com
HOWEVER, it’s not much. We’re rebuilding, after years of work, down the tubes, because some asshole decided to hack and destroy George’s server. So, right now, it’s not ready yet.
:frowning:

13

Retail’s almost as bad. No real chance for grease burns and you fortunately don’t end up smelling like the merchandise. But the story.

4-5 years ago I was working for the Jones Store, in the lingerie department. I was heading back to my department after my break, when a woman yelled at me from over in the middle of the little boys department, wanting help. I told her I didn’t work in the department, but if she’d hold on for a moment I would find someone. (I’m still technically on break, grr.) But no, she then tells me that I need to get some education because I don’t automatically know the entire little boy department, and that I was put there to serve her and well, I’m embellishing a little cuz I don’t remember much else. She was highly offensive. I didn’t end up finding anyone for her after she insulted me.

Ok, so it doesn’t sound anywhere near as bad as some of the other stories.

-Tat

14

loislane138:

If it is the customers that you really hate, convince your mamager to let you switch to working in the back. It still sucks, mind you, and the physical labor is tougher, but you don’t have to deal with anyone oyu don’t already know. And if you get lucky, you can get wash. Mindlessly washing dishes for three hours is so much more peaceful than customer service.

Most managers put girls in front and boys in back out of habit, but there is no law that it has to be that way.

15

Try working fast food in a mall. During Christmas Rush. Twice. Some of the most lovely 15 hour days of my life are the day right after thanksgiving, when everyone trudges lemminglike to their local mall, and proceeds to spend $90billion dollars at the Gap/GapKids/BabyGap/SeniorsGap and whatever might be left after that. I did register, for 8 hours of nonstop hell. I didn’t miss a thing. Drawer came out exact. Down to the penny.

Oh yeah, and this was a Sbarro’s. Pizza. For 15 hours. And 300 Lbs of Dough. And 200 quarts of pizza sauce. and 200 pounds of Cheese. I’ve forgotten the pasta and other crap we had to do. Staggering out of there at midnight, two hours after the mall closed and you had to turn off the register and leave customers on the line after warning them for 15 minutes you were closing, after trying vainly to clean an ungodly amount of dishes, covered in grease, cheese, and other slime…

Shit, they can’t pay you enough to do this.

16

I was at a local McDonald’s two years ago and got to watch a sadistic manager insult her staff to the point that they had glazed over looks in their eyes. She did everything BUT swear at them as she told them how worthless they were.

Then the owner of the store happened to walk in, and she snapped to politeness mode. I walked up to him, introduced myself, and then told him exactly what his manager was saying about the staff, in front of customers no less. He was genuinely shocked and appalled.

After working for a Hardee’s and a Burger King as a teenager, it was sweet revenge for having to suffer at the hands of the incompetent and trailer park evil.

17

So she orders a sandwich without mayo, but is given one with. When whe brings it back she seemingly overreacts, but this probabally wasn’t the first time this has happened. It certainly wasn’t the last, because you made it wrong the same way again. She comes back once more, and your reaction is to laugh at her? Well she was right. It’s not that hard. Mistakes happen, but to make it wrong the same way twice, and the second time right after having it called to your attention? No, she didn’t overreact. Obviously the only way to get your order done right in your restaurant is to throw at least two big fits.

Frankly, all three of you should have been caned. But I suppose the most they could do would be to fire you.

18

I worked for a year doing the Graveyard Shift at an IHOP in Jenkintown, PA. Yeah, that’s the one…blue roof? Yep.

I was both busboy and dishwasher. When the bar across the street closed at 2am, all hell broke loose. Vandalism, trashing the tables ( You can’t imagine the unpleasantness of cleaning up 5 or 6 pitchers worth of flavored syrups that have been artfully blended with an entire container of sugar. And salt. And some ketchup. Fuckers. ), vomiting in the bathrooms, etc.

I busted my ass for 8 hours a night, trying to keep ahead of the crowd. Long about 4:15am, life got quiet and we got to sit. But the verbal abuse and mayhem made the preceeding 5 hours seem like 10. LoisLane, I feel for you.

I overtip. EVERY WHERE. To me, there are two kinds of service. The kind that deserves 20% tip ( almost everyone ), and the kind that deserves to be stiffed. I leave a penny. That shows 'em that I thought about a tip, and decided upon a fitting one.

Maple Syrup. >>shudder<<.

Cartooniverse

19

“Obviously the only way to get your order done right in your restaurant is to throw at least two big fits.”

Oh, please…was this comment HONESTLY meant to make me rethink how I do my job? Was this meant to make me “feel bad” at how I treat (sometimes abusive) customers? Someone CRYING because mayo was on her fucking sandwich…CRYING!!!, and I’m supposed to lose sleep at night because someone in the back forgot to take off the fucking mayo??
We fuck up an order like once a fucking day. FUCK YOU. I have to deal with this stupid shit all fucking day long, for fucking $6 an hour, to have to pay for books, rent, and still try to save for a fucking car. FUCK YOU.
And all the people that work in the back are doing the same fucking thing, trying to balance school and this shitty job, and then some fat excutive bitch CRIES and throws herself a little temper tantrum because ther’s mayo on her fucking sandwich?
I don’t give a rats ass if “obviously the only way to get your order right at your restaurant is to throw at least two big fits”, I don’t fucking care.
And DON’T fucking give me a shpeil on how others have it worse than I do and I should be greatful that I’m working to pay for school and not to support a family…I don’t wanna fucking hear it, I work with people like that, I know first fucking hand how they have it, and they ALSO have to put up with retards who CRY when mayo was put on their sandwich.

20

go Lois!

Doug, honestly, if you throw fits in a restaurant, I wouldn’t blame the employees if they spit in your food!

MAYBE the reason they didn’t do it right when they corrected it was because she was such a bitch.

I will bend over backwards for people who are respectful and courteous. Act like an asshole, and I’m not going to help you.