Guest Dumbass Post by Drive Thru Guy!
Yesterday I posted about some of the new blogs I have come across in recent weeks. One of them, lifeinthedrivethru, is manned by a young man in Canada codenamed “Drive Thru Guy”. DTG, as all us hip, swingin’, cool, mack daddy blogging stars call him, has been blogging for literally about 35 days or so.
It was the title of his blog that caught my attention as I have worked in the food service biz before. I never held down a drive thru window, but I have waited a lot of tables and tended a lot of bar, and let me tell you hungry people can be SOB’s. Drive Thru Guy captures the essence of what it’s really like being on the receiving end of food orders from hungry dumbasses – hungry Canadian dumbasses at that!
So, hop in the passenger seat and let’s hit the drive thru! Oh! And please make sure you have your order all thought out – Drive Thru Guy is picky that way.
Post by Drive Thru Guy
|Drive Thru Guy?|
1) I hate people like this, and 2) I think profanity and venting go hand-in-hand. Make no mistake, I’m venting here.
The headset goes off, alerting me that there’s an order, “Hi, can I take your order?”
“Yeah, I’ll get a number 2.”
“Alright, did you want fries and cola with that?”
“No, just the sandwich.” WELL THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING NUMBER 2 NOW IS IT? The number 2 suggests COMBO, otherwise it’s just a burger, which…. isn’t a number at all!
“Alright, is that everything?”
“That’s one order.”
Uhhh yeah, it SURE FUCKING IS! One that was clearly placed by a dumbass too! “How many orders do you have?” And why, oh WHY, can’t people tell me they have multiple orders BEFORE they start placing them?
“Alright, go ahead with the second order.”
The passenger is ordering this, as it’s barely audible, which may not be the best idea if you prefer to actually get what you are asking for, but people do it all the time. It’s like when it’s raining and they crack their window an inch and a half and then talk through the glass, expecting me to hear them, but I digress. “I’ll get a fiphishfiphishfip.”
Hmmmm, all I know is, aside from a mean polar-bear-cub-pot-pie, we don’t serve anything exotic here, “pardon me?”
Again we go through this nonsense of the passenger doing the talking and again I can’t make it out. “Sorry, one more time?”
The driver finally clues in and YELLS it himself. “A number 6.” It’s about time you realize I’m wearing a headset, not a whisper 2000 and thanks ya muff taco.
Number 6. Oh sweet Jesus. NUMBER 6? Do I dare ask? I have to… “Did you want fries and cola with that?”
“Well YEAH, THE COMBO.”
Oh, well pardon me! One of you two idiots doesn’t understand the concept of a combo, and excuse me for thinking that maybe you wanted a caesar salad and juice to drink. “Alright, is that everything?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Oh are you sure that’s not just the SECOND order? Asshole.
So I give him the totals and he drives up and pays. Then the driver, who I’d describe as a partially retarded Tarzan look-a-like looks up at me with his long wavy blonde hair, big dumb eyes and says “Is there extra ketchup in the bag?”
HELL NO! There’d have to be ORIGINAL ketchup in the bag before there could be EXTRA. Did you ask me for ketchup? NO! So of course there’s no ketchup in the bag….
and to borrow from one of my favorite and first posts:
Why would we automatically assume you want ketchup? Do you know how much ketchup we would waste if we just gave it to everyone? We would bankrupt the world of tomatoes.
The last time you bought a pair of pants at the department store and were leaving the check out, did you look at the cashier and say “is there a belt in the bag?” NO!
Unfortunately, I HAVE to CHEERILY reply, “No, but I’ll get you some!” <— And that, my friends, is why I think profanity and venting go hand-in-hand!