It was a Saturday evening and my wife suggested we stop in
for a reasonably-priced dinner at our local Arby’s roast beef emporium. As we
entered the dining area to order, I noticed that the only other patrons were an
older gentleman and his female companion. I probably wouldn’t have noticed them
at all except she was wearing a housecoat and slippers which I interpreted as
either a carryover from the previous evening or a harbinger for the one to
come.
My wife, my son, and I
stood at the register for several minutes while a young female employee
attempted to mitigate a romantic crisis via phone call while standing watch
over the deep-fryer. She acknowledged our presence, but continued to insist to
the caller that the subject of their conversation has “made his choice” and
dismissed his “Snap-chat foolishness” as further evidence of his immaturity.
The employee then nodded silently for several seconds as her confidant
undoubtedly offered the requisite sympathy and encouraged her to pursue a
paramour less inclined to digital philandering.
Just as we were about to turn and leave, she ended the call
with a promise to keep her friend updated and walked over to the register to
take our order. Making no mention of her recent heartbreak, she rang us up and
promised that our food would be ready shortly. I thought about asking her if
the manager on duty allowed them to avoid customers while making long personal
phone calls, but I was afraid that doing so might result in my sandwich taking a
detour down someone’s underpants.
I settled my wife and son into a booth and went to retrieve
our tray, but when I got to the table my wife noticed that the milk that came
with the kid’s meal had already been opened and was half-empty. Someone had
even written “coffee creamer” on the side of the bottle with a Sharpie. My wife
was incensed that someone would attempt to give our child a potentially tainted
half-empty dairy beverage and I was incensed that they had the nerve to charge
me full price for the privilege.
I approached the register and politely requested a
replacement drink. When I showed her the writing on the side of the container
she shook her head in disgust and loudly announced that she was going to get to
the bottom of this travesty and “write somebody up.” It was at this point I
realized that she was the manager on duty and therefore, the highest level of
authority I could appeal to at this point in time.
She apologized profusely and again vaguely promised some sort
of retribution on my behalf while handing me a replacement from the cooler. Finally
in possession of a factory-sealed 2% milk, I walked back over to our table and
began consuming my Beef N’ Cheddar while she filled out paperwork on her
clipboard by the register. Then, apparently responding to a comment from
another employee, she loudly suggested that he “shut the f**K up!”
Almost choking on my curly-fry, I glanced up from my meal at
the exact same moment she realized that she was managing a fast food restaurant
and not captaining a river-barge. She caught my eye and mouthed an apology, but
by this time we were the only customers left and it wouldn’t have surprised me
if an employee decided to remove their pants and do a line of coke off the
condiments bar. It was like Lord of the Flies in this place.
Fortunately, my son didn’t visibly react to the outburst
which means either it did not affect him at all or he immediately internalized
the vulgarity and it will subconsciously fester until he commits his first
felony. The sad thing is that the young lady was genuinely friendly and
approachable. She simply needed a little polish before pursuing a corporate
position. Perhaps Arby’s could fund a short course on what not to say in front
of customers. Avoiding the F-word and phrases like “I am not convinced that
refrigerating meat is necessary” can go a long way toward generating repeat
customers and revenue growth.
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