It’s bad enough that the kiosk errored out when I tried to change the drinks from Coke to Vanilla Coke, then barfed on printing. At least the order got through to the staff.
SPOILERS: Not that it mattered!
After an 11-minute wait, they call my number. I know it was 11-minutes because there’s a timer on my crossword puzzle app. I don’t even need to reach the counter to know they’ve forgotten food. I know it like I know that 12-across’s clue about a Terrible Muriel is “Toni Colette”.
I don’t even look, I just start taking food out of the bags and arranging it across the counter. I can hardly believe my eyes, as it would appear the fine folks of Sunday Night Crew were going for a new record of Shit They Forgot.
Ignored were three of the four hamburgers, two Big Macs and all four apple pies. Both Big Mac sauces too, but hey, I’m not going to be an Ass about that.
I stand at the counter and watch all of the very thin teenage females zip and zoom around filling orders. NONE of them pay me any mind. The only non-skinny one (sandy-blonde hair) is filling orders at the other counter and actually looks at me to make eye contact, but mostly she seem to be weighing my unhappiness, and trying to gauge the chances I’m going to go Ass on them.
No one approaches, no one asks me about my order. There is NO ONE else at the counter.
“You forgot some food!” I call out before ANYONE will regard me, but I said it loud enough so I ended up with three of the thinnies coming over.
Thinnie #1: “What’s missing?”
The food is neatly clustered categorically on the counter. Big Mac, QP, Cheeseburgers X2, Nuggets, fries and drinks off to the side, making it easy to differentiate Food That Is Here versus, well, the other kind of food.
A lonely little hamburger sits in the middle of the other burgers, waiting for three more of his friends so he can finally join the rest of them in the bag with the Big Burgers.
Me: “THREE hamburgers, ALL FOUR apple pies, ONE quarter pounder and ONE Big Mac.”
I’m not being an Ass yet. I’m speaking up on the numbers so that they won’t ask me to repeat myself.
Each Thinnie takes a look at the little display I’ve made and two of them zip away as if they’re going to get my food.
SPOILERS: They weren’t.
Thinnie #2: “How many hamburgers?”
Me: [SIGH] “Three. I’m missing three hamburgers.”
Thinnie #2: “Three hamburgers?”
Me: [Wondering what would have changed in the last 3.1 seconds, looking around suspiciously] “Yes.”
She hustles off. I wait. Another 90 seconds pass. NOBODY has brought a hamburger, nor any pies, nor anything else. None of them have looked at me except SandyBlonde, who keeps giving me wary looks as if I’m already going full-Ass on them.
I’m not, of course. Not yet.
Thinnies #1-#3 are still zipping and zooming around the main pit area, filling bags and being busy.
“Um, can I get those burgers?”
Thinnies stop and look at me, fear in their eyes. Manager Thinnie gives a cursory look to the Thinnies as they stand there Not Helping Me, then comes over.
MgrThinnie: “SorryAboutThat, what’s missing?”
Me: [SIGH] “Three hamburgers, FOUR apple pies, QP and Big Mac.”
She at least turns around talks directly to the Thinnies, instructing them to get me the burgers I ordered. I figure she got that Manager gig because she’s got a better chance than I do of getting them to actually GET MY FOOD.
SPOILERS: I’m wrong.
Minutes pass. I finally figure out that 38-across clue was a Beatles reference but I couldn’t remember if it’s Sargent or Sergeant. The Thinnies return without me calling out. Between the three of them they are carrying a solitary Big Mac. I reluctantly put away my crossword.
Thinnie #3: “Here’s the Big Mac, but you say you’re missing a Quarter Pounder? It’s right here.” [she points to the lone QP on the counter as if I’ve got a rare eye disease that can’t make out colourful burgered-boxes.]
Me: “Yeah, TWO Quarter Pounders, two Big Macs.”
Thinnie #3: “Ah, there’s three Big Macs and one QP here.” [shows me my receipt]
Me: “Ah yeah, your kiosk borked on me. Sorry, I meant to order two and two for those burgers. Is it cool if I get a Quarter Pounder instead of another Big Mac so I have two of each?”
Thinnie #3 stops and stares wide-eyed at Thinnie #2. I’ve apparently asked for something Highly Unusual. Time passes as they look at each other and wordlessly try to figure out a way to get away from me without committing to giving me food in any way, shape or form.
Me: “If it’s going to be an issue, I’ll just have the three Big Macs. Really I’d just like to get all the food I ordered.”
Thinnie #3: “No, no, we’ll get you a Quarter Pounder.”
Me: [friendly] “Cool, thank you.”
They walk away and go back to zipping and zooming. Thinnie #4 brings me the Quarter Pounder.
Me: “Thanks. Any word on the other food?”
Thinnie #2: [stopping and turning slowly] “What are you missing?”
Me: “Still need those three hamburgers, and the apple pies.”
Thinnie #2: “Three hamburgers?”
Now, do you people train them on the repetition thing? Is that in the Be A Macca’s Manual before they learn how to pack an order with less food than on the receipt but before you teach them the passively-waiting-for-death stare into oblivion?
Me, sighing but still not being an Ass: “YES.”
She zips away. Minutes pass. 23-down was a hard one but a reindeer clue leads me to “antler”. Despite my height (tall) and body shape (heavy) and the fact that I’m standing at the counter, food out of the bags and in little rows, and the fact that EVERYTHING about me SCREAMS that my order isn’t complete yet, NOBODY approaches me.
I see a new Thinnie and recognise her from the artful way she earlier declined a stack of ten-cent pieces from a full-face tattoo’ed example of Armadale’s Finest, explaining to him that she couldn’t give him anything for fifty-cents because of “policy”.
Me: “Um, I still need some Big Mac sauce.”
Despite the fact that I’m FOUR FEET away, three Thinnies look at me and blink wordlessly as Thinnie #4 asks: “What was that?”
Me: [same volume] “I need some Big Mac sauce.”
I don’t ask them why the kiosk would let me choose sauces if they don’t put them in the bags. I don’t ask them why they keep asking me what I’m missing when I’ve got it all on display and my receipt is happily parked in the middle, nearest them, even turned around for their ease of reading. I’m not going to turn into an Ass, but SandyBlonde is still giving me looks while she shoves fries into bags.
Thinnie #4: “You need some Big Mac sauce?”
Again with the repetition. I am NOT soft-spoken. I do not shout but am not someone people don’t hear and I still don’t know what could have possibly changed in the situation from the time that I said I needed Big Mac sauce to when Thinnie #4 repeated it back to me. Clearly this crew is used to some random and weird shit happening At Any Given Time. Order quantities must be like New Math or Quantum Physics and Dark Matter where shit is changing CONSTANTLY.
Full Disclosure: Now is when some Ass started coming out.
Me: “Yes. [pointing to receipt] It’s there on the bottom, see?”
Thinnie #4: “So one Big Mac sauce?”
Now I’m wondering what would happen if I changed my answer. Would time stop and a voiceover would say something wry about how “Now is when the aneurysm burst”? Would her head explode and I’d get done for manslaughter if I’d said I needed TWO?
Me: “YES. One Big Mac Sauce.”
Sandyblonde raises her eyebrows to Thinnie #2 and thinks I don’t see it. I can’t believe that I’M going to have the stories told about ME later. They’ll be on a smoke break and be like, “Can you buh-leeve that guy today in the hat? Kept going ON and ON about wanting the food he ordered. Geez. What an Ass.”
Thinnie #4 gets hung up near the kitchen by a manager with a horrific spider tattoo down his arm. Apparently there’s been a spate of unsanctioned Big Mac Sauce removals and the Boss needs to personally approve each little cardboard dippin’ container. He says something to her, turns to go, then turns back and says something else.
Thinnie #4 grabs two containers and I get excited, because I’m actually missing BOTH the ones off the receipt but I hadn’t been an Ass about it yet. Was it possible she read the receipt and actually paid attention to What I Ordered? Could it be even the barest, remotest hint at competency?
Nope. This spot, this place on the counter reserved for Ubereats drivers, is apparently where Hope Comes To Die.
She puts the other sauce near The Pit and walks the other one over to me. MgrSpiderArm, for some reason, suddenly comes out and watches over her shoulder as she puts the sauce down on the counter. Then he leaves having said nothing to me. He’s clearly the manager tasked with cracking down on the rampant Big Mac Sauce thefts. I wish him well.
Thinnie #4 looks a little scared, then leans in conspiratorially: “Sorry about the wait.”
Me: “All good, I got some good crossword time in.”
Thinnie #4 glances back at her co-workers, rolls her eyes a bit and smiles at me: “Was there anything else?”
I’m totally unprepared for this. Could she tell? What gave it away? That I was still standing there, leaning up against the wall wondering why the app won’t let me put a “C” onto the existing letters of “UNT” for 53-down’s clue of “Thrill of the __”? That my food was still in little piles out in front of the bags?
Not gonna lie, this person is 100% Manager Material. I expect you to promote her soon to the vacant managerial position for the person in charge of NEVER giving napkins unless someone asks for them only to then give them exactly THIRTY-SEVEN.
Me: “Yep, still need those apple pies.”
Thinnie #4: “You need apple pies?”
Me, wondering if I’ve accidentally started speaking Swahili again (because I’m so silly like that): “Yep, three apple pies.”
I’d glanced down to see that while the group of Thinnies (collective term is actually a “zipzoom” of Thinnies) was delivering a Big Mac, one of them snuck an apple pie into the bag of fries. Not FOUR apple pies, just the one.
Thinnie #4: “Three apple pies?”
Me, wondering what the word of affirmation in Swahili is: “YES.”
I’m back to not going Ass at her. She smiled, she’s trying, she’s even pretending to share my belief that her inept co-workers are a drain on us all. I’m just relieved I don’t have to repeat it a third time.
MgrThinnie pokes her head around still packing a bag for the drive-thru: “We’re just waiting on those apple pies…”
I don’t answer back that I’ve got the whole waiting-on-the-food thing figured out by now. I should just be happy someone acknowledged that I was waiting for food I ordered and didn’t have me repeat it twice. Instead I accidentally let a bit of Ass out.
Me: “YES, still waiting on the food I ordered.”
SandyBlonde actually looks worried, like I’m going to Hulk Smash and lay waste to the still-empty counter. She looks to the Zipzoom at The Pit and rolls her eyes. I do not like this.
How is it that I’M the asshole for actually wanting the food I actually ordered? What is the average Macca’s customer like? Do they just pay whatever and eat whatever? Is no one concerned when they pay for food and then don’t get it? Are we that much of an over-indulgent, affluent Western culture that we just ask for food, pay heaps of money for it, get most of it and then just shrug and move on?
Me: “Hey look, I’ll just slip back there and make the burgers myself, cool? I promise I’ll wash my hands!”
SandyBlonde looks at me with a mix of bemusement and discomfort, like I’m actually going to do it and she can’t WAIT to see how difficult I’ll find it to read a receipt and place items whose description matches what’s printed on the receipt into a paper bag. Oh, the Humble Pie I’ll have to eat!
I’m joking, obviously, I wasn’t going to jump the counter and make my own food. I have no desire to instantly become General Manager of the entire store when everyone sees my positively glorious skills at READING and then translating what I read into the actions I then perform. They’d watch me read “No onions” and then NOT put onions on the burger and they’d make me Shift Manager on the spot. I bet MgrSpiderArm would rip his nameplate off and pin it on me himself!
Hell, if they stuck around to see me read “Tomato Slice” on the receipt and then ACTUALLY PUT IT ON A BURGER, they’d want to make me their king! They’d carry me around in a sedan chair, one Thinnie per corner, and they’d only put the chair down for me to demonstrate, live and in-person, the oh-so-subtle difference between ONE hamburger and FOUR.
Crowds would form, people would cheer, and all the Thinnies would smile and each of the Managers would ask me what was so incredibly unique and special about my ears that they were able to discern customers’ speech patterns the FIRST TRY without making them repeat it twice.
It is then that Thinnie #2 then stuns me. Shocked. Awed. I’m still recovering. She approached zipzoomily, precisely THREE hamburgers in her hands, and she put them on the counter next to the others. This both pleased and infuriated me. Pleased because I actually got the food that I ordered in the quantity I ordered, but pissed because SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE remembered that I was missing three burgers and did jack shit about it until I started being a goofball.
Maybe this was all a test. Maybe this is how you McDonald’s people choose your leaders. Well keep looking, Manager Seekers, I’m a busy man and can’t devote the entire afternoon it would take to successfully fill multiple drive-thru orders in a row and thus get a framed-picture up in the Macca’s Hall of Fame.
Nah, more likely this is some sort of cost-cutting measure in that it’s cheaper to train 15-yo Thinnies (non-thins too) to act brain-dead and short people the food they ordered (and PAID for) than it is to actually serve people THEIR ACTUAL ORDER.
Which, really, is genius. I mean, people are already going to complain because people are, for the most part, sewage mud. May as well give them a reason for when they complain! May as well make 95% sure you’re NOT giving them their freakin’ food, because you just saved 45-cents unit cost per burger, and that can really add up.
I’m onto you Maccas. I’ve discovered your secret. There’s no way it’s coincidence that you’ve only gotten ONE of my orders right in the LAST TWO YEARS. We’re there at least once month too, sometimes more, so we’re talking at least 30 or so visits.
Seriously, we put it in our family-shared Google Calendar and every July 18th we celebrate Macca’s Got It Right Day with a feast fit for a king (or Maccas Manager).
That we get from Hungry Jacks. Ha.
But wait… I have yet to FINISH THE F*CKING STORY.
Thinnie #4 now comes out, and she has all THREE missing apple pies in hand. After she puts them in the fries bag, I take a couple of fries and pop them into my mouth. Cold, and I make a face. I check my watch again, much to the terror of the eye-rolling SandyBlonde and I thank Thinnie #4 despite my crossword showing 17-minutes of clue-guessin’ and food-missin’.
It was an adventure, Maccas, and while I’ll never wish to relive it, I’ll never forget it. And I know that if ever comes a six-letter word for “Fast food chain known for its consistent f*ck-ups” I’m nailing it first try!
Oh yeah, you owe me $1.20 for the tomato slices you left off.