The Service Industry: Your Best Stories Here

[Medusa]

Going through the drive-thru at McD's before I decided to stop eating heart-attacks-in-a-sack.

Them: "Welcome to McDonald's, can I take your order?"

Me: "Yes, I would like a quarter-pound hamburger."

Them: "Quarter-pounder Cheeseburger, Plain."

Me: "No. A Quarter-pounder Hamburger."

Them: "You want a Quarter-Pounder Cheeseburger Plain?"

Me: "No, I want all the ketchup and stuff on it - just no cheese."

Them: "Oh, a Quarter-Pounder. Plain."

Me: "Doesn't "Plain" mean no ketchup, mustard, or pickle?"

Them: "Yes."

Me: "I WANT the ketchup, mustard, and pickle. Just no cheese. So - A quarter pounder HAMburger, NOT a quarter-pounder CHEESEburger."

Them: "A Plain Cheeseburger?"

Me: " Ok. Make a Quarter-pound Cheeseburger and RIGHT BEFORE YOU PUT THE CHEESE ON IT......STOP!"

Them: "Ohhhhhh...a quarter-pounder cheeseburger with no cheese."

Me: "YESSSSSS"

[Rockinonahigh]

I went to the drive in to get lunch and ask for a half dozen Mc nuggets..the person takeing the order said

Sir, we dont have half dozen but do have a order of six nuggets in a box..then they ask someone ..say this guy wants an order of a half dozen Mc nuggets..do we have that??

Only at Mc Donalds.

[SuperFemme]

My first job was at Del Taco. It traumatized me.

Drive-thru dialogue:

Hi. This is Adele.
Welcome to Del Taco
Would you like to try our Del Burrito or our Del Burger?

I felt like such a hooker.

[Medusa]

Originally Posted by SuperFemme

My first job was at Del Taco. It traumatized me.

Drive-thru dialogue:

Hi. This is Adele.
Welcome to Del Taco
Would you like to try our Del Burrito or our Del Burger?

I felt like such a hooker.

WORD! My first job was at a Mom and Pop's greasy spoon in the boondocks of Arkansas. It was owned by a very loud, very dysfunctional family that included a very flaming Gay son who was not out, a MEAN actively-alcoholic Mother, and a Father who was a penny-pinching miser who used to make us re-use tin-foil and re-serve rolls that people had already touched. EWW.

I washed dishes and kept the buffet full. It was gross and demeaning work for $4 an hour cash.

One night, the mean-Momma had made a bunch of pies to put out on the buffet. She had them cooling on a freezer in front of the main window and someone came by and shot the window with a BB gun, scattering little specs of glass everywhere.

The miser-Daddy proceeded to hold each one up to the light and pick out the flecks of glass with a dirty pocket knife. EWWWWW.

They later had to shut down when someone set the building on fire.
No, it wasnt me.

[SuperFemme]

Originally Posted by Medusa

WORD! My first job was at a Mom and Pop's greasy spoon in the boondocks of Arkansas. It was owned by a very loud, very dysfunctional family that included a very flaming Gay son who was not out, a MEAN actively-alcoholic Mother, and a Father who was a penny-pinching miser who used to make us re-use tin-foil and re-serve rolls that people had already touched. EWW.

I washed dishes and kept the buffet full. It was gross and demeaning work for $4 an hour cash.

One night, the mean-Momma had made a bunch of pies to put out on the buffet. She had them cooling on a freezer in front of the main window and someone came by and shot the window with a BB gun, scattering little specs of glass everywhere.

The miser-Daddy proceeded to hold each one up to the light and pick out the flecks of glass with a dirty pocket knife. EWWWWW.

They later had to shut down when someone set the building on fire.
No, it wasnt me.

Oh my god how did you deal?
umm? do you still have the lighter?

[Nina]

I was in my late late-late teens, first of the 20's...

there was a 24 hour donut place which was the rage with the college kids, and all the city worked--DPW and the like used it...overnight hang out for a drunk or two and all round destination place for many of the locals...

I was persuaded to go in one night with a friend and met abe...he took me into the back and I fell in LOIVE with the huge wooden work tables...I was going on and on about them, how I wished I could have them at home, and he offered me a job...

I didn't know better....I took it...as I recall $1.20 an hour...I went to work at 10pm and finished crack 'o dawn the next day...

I worked with willie and don...both functional alcoholics both took me under their wings...it was a good place to feel protected in...(there was also a whole gambling thing going on there but it was really over my head)

willie couldn't really read...I got materials from the adult literacy project and worked on things with him...he got to be pretty skilled at reading and it was nice to see him feel good about it...it gave us something to do while the cinnamon rolls were proofing and there were some slow moments...

I was studying classical voice at the time and abe kept telling all the customers I was a great singer since I was full bosomed...he was kinda a pig...he thought it was OK to be a pig with me since he was Jewish, and I am Jewish so that gave us some kind of 'bond' in his mind--it was in his mind alone...

at about 3 or 4 am the donuts would come out of the oil...willie would swing the huge grate filled with dripping donuts out of the oil and I would fill them...the college kids would arrive like locusts, wanting hot bavarian cream doughnuts...they would crowd their way in the back and point well manicured fingers at the ones they wanted and then stand there waiting for me to pick up the still steaming doughnuts and fill them..."I want it Hot" was the constant refrain...'no',I would tell them, they are too hot to touch and I'll get burned..."but I want It H-h-hot"...I suggested that she could fill it herself (it was always the girls who did this)...I'd get the eye-roll and the flounced-hair 'okay'...I just stood back, we all did, and watched as she would pick up the doughnut, and then fling it down with a retort as she cradled her burned hand...I then told her I had to charge her for the donut anyway...

one of the perks of the job was that at the end of my shift when the streets were filled with snow, one of the DPW guys would always plow my way home...he'd drive the big truck and I'd follow in my VW bug, and then when I got home he'd plow out my driveway and in I'd go...

wow...I haven't thought about Abe's for a long time...I didn't like doughnuts when I started working there and don't like them to this day...odd since I do like fried things, just not doughnuts...and I *still* lust after those huge wooden bakery work spaces...

thus ends the ramblings...

[Gemme]

Originally Posted by Neen

I was in my late late-late teens, first of the 20's...

there was a 24 hour donut place which was the rage with the college kids, and all the city worked--DPW and the like used it...overnight hang out for a drunk or two and all round destination place for many of the locals...

I was persuaded to go in one night with a friend and met abe...he took me into the back and I fell in LOIVE with the huge wooden work tables...I was going on and on about them, how I wished I could have them at home, and he offered me a job...

I didn't know better....I took it...as I recall $1.20 an hour...I went to work at 10pm and finished crack 'o dawn the next day...

I worked with willie and don...both functional alcoholics both took me under their wings...it was a good place to feel protected in...(there was also a whole gambling thing going on there but it was really over my head)

willie couldn't really read...I got materials from the adult literacy project and worked on things with him...he got to be pretty skilled at reading and it was nice to see him feel good about it...it gave us something to do while the cinnamon rolls were proofing and there were some slow moments...

I was studying classical voice at the time and abe kept telling all the customers I was a great singer since I was full bosomed...he was kinda a pig...he thought it was OK to be a pig with me since he was Jewish, and I am Jewish so that gave us some kind of 'bond' in his mind--it was in his mind alone...

at about 3 or 4 am the donuts would come out of the oil...willie would swing the huge grate filled with dripping donuts out of the oil and I would fill them...the college kids would arrive like locusts, wanting hot bavarian cream doughnuts...they would crowd their way in the back and point well manicured fingers at the ones they wanted and then stand there waiting for me to pick up the still steaming doughnuts and fill them..."I want it Hot" was the constant refrain...'no',I would tell them, they are too hot to touch and I'll get burned..."but I want It H-h-hot"...I suggested that she could fill it herself (it was always the girls who did this)...I'd get the eye-roll and the flounced-hair 'okay'...I just stood back, we all did, and watched as she would pick up the doughnut, and then fling it down with a retort as she cradled her burned hand...I then told her I had to charge her for the donut anyway...

one of the perks of the job was that at the end of my shift when the streets were filled with snow, one of the DPW guys would always plow my way home...he'd drive the big truck and I'd follow in my VW bug, and then when I got home he'd plow out my driveway and in I'd go...

wow...I haven't thought about Abe's for a long time...I didn't like doughnuts when I started working there and don't like them to this day...odd since I do like fried things, just not doughnuts...and I *still* lust after those huge wooden bakery work spaces...

thus ends the ramblings...

I worked overnight at a donut shop for two weeks. Not my cuppa. I was good at flipping the donuts in the grease with the sticks and filling them, but not so much with the lifting the palate-sized trays and fitting them into the cart and some of the other baking duties.

I went home smelling like burnt donuts every morning and that stuff does NOT come out. It was in my hair, bedding, clothes and any fabric I touched, including sofas and my favorite recliner.

Work = two weeks
Time to get the smell out of everything = 8 weeks

I did, however, get to see beautiful sunrises when I was leaving to go home.