The day has caught up with me and I know by the time I get home the kids will be starving so I drive through Wendy's.
My son likes his hamburger with only ketchup. He's picky.
I order carefully, making sure to say "hamburger with ketchup only" and then check on the screen to see that I was understood. Yes, there. I see it. I continue with the order and when I ask for spicy nuggets she says it will be a 4 minute wait. This happens every time I order them, I'm used to the wait.
I pay at the first window and the woman there hardly makes eye contact with me because she's already taking another order. I don't know how they juggle this crazy multi-tasking, and I don't want to mess them up so I stay as quiet as I can.
She hands me my receipt and points for me to go to the next window while she covers her ear with one hand, trying hard to understand the order that is being shouted at her with a tremendous southern drawl.
At the next window a woman hands me a bag and two drinks and tells me to pull up and wait for the nuggets. Fine, fine, I'll wait for the nuggets.
As I'm waiting I pull out Zack's hamburger to make SURE it had only ketchup.
Nope. It's wrong. It has cheese.
Good thing I checked, he would have flipped. The cheese is melted to the bun and impossible to pull off and since I have these few minutes waiting for the nuggets, I get out of my car and walk into Wendy's holding the half-wrapped sandwich.
The cashier waves me to the front of the line. What's wrong?
I asked for a hamburger, ketchup only, and this has cheese.
She nods her head and I go back to the car and wait for someone to bring the bag out.
Just as I'm falling into an article on blackholes and wormholes a woman appears at my window holding a bag.
I open the window to get it but she holds it a little tight and doesn't hand it over.
Instead, she takes this moment to tell me how to improve my ordering.
Excuse me but you should know that all our hamburgers have cheese. If you want a hamburger without cheese, you have to ask for the hamburger without cheese.
I'm shocked. People don't lecture me, not usually, and it takes me a beat to respond.
So asking for a hamburger with ketchup only isn't enough?
No she says.
In that moment, I get the impression she thinks I'm a bit daffy, a little stupid.
I should have driven away but I have to ask her, since she's made herself the designated lecturer.
OK, so you are telling me there is no difference between a hamburger and a cheeseburger? Even though they are both separately on your menu? And no matter which I order, you'll give me a cheeseburger?
She looks at me. Maybe I talked to fast. Maybe I thought too fast.
Still holding my bag, she repeats, If you don't want cheese on your hamburger you have to say you don't want cheese on your hamburger."
I pull the bag from her hand and smile and thank her saying not too convincingly, "You've been very helpful."
My son likes his hamburger with only ketchup. He's picky.
I order carefully, making sure to say "hamburger with ketchup only" and then check on the screen to see that I was understood. Yes, there. I see it. I continue with the order and when I ask for spicy nuggets she says it will be a 4 minute wait. This happens every time I order them, I'm used to the wait.
I pay at the first window and the woman there hardly makes eye contact with me because she's already taking another order. I don't know how they juggle this crazy multi-tasking, and I don't want to mess them up so I stay as quiet as I can.
She hands me my receipt and points for me to go to the next window while she covers her ear with one hand, trying hard to understand the order that is being shouted at her with a tremendous southern drawl.
At the next window a woman hands me a bag and two drinks and tells me to pull up and wait for the nuggets. Fine, fine, I'll wait for the nuggets.
As I'm waiting I pull out Zack's hamburger to make SURE it had only ketchup.
Nope. It's wrong. It has cheese.
Good thing I checked, he would have flipped. The cheese is melted to the bun and impossible to pull off and since I have these few minutes waiting for the nuggets, I get out of my car and walk into Wendy's holding the half-wrapped sandwich.
The cashier waves me to the front of the line. What's wrong?
I asked for a hamburger, ketchup only, and this has cheese.
She nods her head and I go back to the car and wait for someone to bring the bag out.
Just as I'm falling into an article on blackholes and wormholes a woman appears at my window holding a bag.
I open the window to get it but she holds it a little tight and doesn't hand it over.
Instead, she takes this moment to tell me how to improve my ordering.
Excuse me but you should know that all our hamburgers have cheese. If you want a hamburger without cheese, you have to ask for the hamburger without cheese.
I'm shocked. People don't lecture me, not usually, and it takes me a beat to respond.
So asking for a hamburger with ketchup only isn't enough?
No she says.
In that moment, I get the impression she thinks I'm a bit daffy, a little stupid.
I should have driven away but I have to ask her, since she's made herself the designated lecturer.
OK, so you are telling me there is no difference between a hamburger and a cheeseburger? Even though they are both separately on your menu? And no matter which I order, you'll give me a cheeseburger?
She looks at me. Maybe I talked to fast. Maybe I thought too fast.
Still holding my bag, she repeats, If you don't want cheese on your hamburger you have to say you don't want cheese on your hamburger."
I pull the bag from her hand and smile and thank her saying not too convincingly, "You've been very helpful."
