I don't know if it's the lack of qualified workers out there, or the school system not teaching our kids what fast food looks like in picture form, but the quality of service I seem to be getting at the various drive-thru's is abhorrent. And if you one day hear on the news that some stressed out soccer mom, went all Burger King on someones sorry ass, you can just assume it's me.
Let me tell you why..
Mostly likely, it's because I just spent 20 minutes in the not so fast drive-thru trying to explain to Little Johnny what I need. Continually having to correct my order, as he pushes the buttons on the cash register. Because no matter how clearly I speak into that little box, or how many times I correct the order taker, I always seem to get the wrong thing in my sack. I'm now 98% certain that I will get "boned" on something in my order. Fast food service has become so pathetic that my family has come up with it's own term to express how often we get screwed out of the thing we actually ordered. For those that don't know the term "Boned", it means to have your lovely man get his (ahem) first, and then to roll over and fall asleep. Thus leaving you high and dry (wink wink)!! That's the royal boned.
How hard a task is it to push the picture of a hamburger when someone says hamburger? Where exactly does the translation go wrong? I'm fairly certain, that I'm ordering the precise thing that I want. I know I never say fries when I mean chicken tenders. Or limp salad, when I want a Sprite. So, I'm sure the problem isn't on my end. Seeing how I've had so much time waiting for the guy to screw up my order, I think I've determine the exact point in which the entire order process goes completely awry.
One would think it's me because I speak some whacked out version of English. But, nope you'd be wrong. I have no drawl or twang. Nor do I make those weird Swahili clicky sounds. I speak plan ole boring, non-nasal English. I'm from Colorado. We have no accent whatsoever. That said, I do think I've come up with six possible explanations why my order is constantly screwed up:
1. The fast food guy lacks fingers and has to use his nose to push the buttons.
2. He's incapable of pushing a button that corresponds to the spoken word, because he missed training day that showed him which buttons were which. So, is left to guess which pictures match which word.
3. Order taker is in collusion with government agency, doing a psychological study on how to drive soccer mom's nuts.
4. Burger Joint's drive thru philosophy: "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit." (Funny, that's my philosophy too!)
5. Window person's 20 face piercings and enormous ear eyelet is causing electromagnetic interference in machine, so order is getting messed up.
6. New "reality" show being secretly filmed. Called, "Cold Nuggets" Premise of show is to see how long it takes stressed out soccer mom to go postal when her order is screw up. Grand prize for patient moms.. You'll get your meal right!
Because, I don't believe in any governmental conspiracy theory, and I don't think a prosthetic hand would guarantee a correct order, I'm going to select answer #5.
You expect that when they correctly repeat your order back to you, you are going to be given all the right food. Yeah, well you'd be wrong. No. Burger and fries really means fish and onion rings. I honestly think it's because the giant ear eyelet has done untold damage to his hearing. And thus he has to guess what you just ordered.
Frustrated, I now check my bag before I pull away from the window. I usually find any errors before I leave. But, thus forced into a dilemma. Make practice on time and accept what ever is in the bag. Like a surprise. OR Wait for "window boy" to come back and get your order fixed correctly. With the added bonus of having to listen to Mr. Impatient behind me honk, because I haven't pulled away yet. No.. that's not pressure.
And people wonder why soccer mom's are stressed out?! Hello, I personally have 4 kids. Two of them have to be at soccer practice at the same time, each in a different part of town. Practice starts at 5:30pm. School ends at 3:30, there is homework and chores to do before we depart for the night. The third kid has to be at hockey practice at 4:15. Yeah, I have just enough time to swing through Burger King, on my way to the ice rink and shove some mediocre food down my kids throats. That is if I can actually get what I ordered. Sure, I have 20 minutes to spend arguing with Crappy Attitude guy and his eye tattoo over the fact that I wanted a Sprite and NOT triple bacon avocado cheese fries.. Just get my order right, so I can spend my time driving between stops trying to use my teeth to pry the double knots out of a pair of muddy cleats.
Oh, and why you are at it, can you complete my experience by making sure you ignore my request for a girl toy, because my toddler is totally not going to whine because she got the eye booger ball instead of the pink pony that she had her heart set on.
I think I'll just take my cold nuggets and cut my losses thank you very much. We can try again tomorrow.