Our family of six went to a local burger joint tonight. That's not news but by the time we left the place I was THISCLOSE to bludgeoning an employee. Instigating a severe mood change in me takes skills; to have me happy going into the place but bent on deep-frying murder on the way out?
Someone should get an award. A Customer Service of The Year Award.
It was a dark and stormy....okay, just a dark night, and being a fairly quiet one in the restaurant, the employees were busy at clean up. My brood bellied up to the counter and I caught a glimpse of an employee from the back. This Employee of the Month was dragging in the garbage cans from the back door. Apparently, she'd just been outside dumping the cans only to stop briefly to set aside her task and help us at the register.
Can you see where I am going with this?
We ordered. She smiled politely and handed us the drinking cups. With her bare hands.
I'm a little bit of a germaphobe. What good parent isn't? Kids get dirty. Absolutely, and yet I draw the line at nose picking, bathroom breaks, licking the grocery store floor, the ebola virus......and garbage handling.
For a split second, I considered waiting to complain when we were on our way out. I'm fairly easy going but I couldn't let it go, watching her touch my kids' drinking cups. I had to pipe up.
"Ma'am? Excuse me. I don't mean to be a problem, but you did just handle those garbage cans and now you are handling my kids' cups?"
Mr Coffee looked over at me. I can see he's thinking, OH, Lordy, here we go. The man wanted a meal, not creative indigestion. As I suspected, Hamburger Lady got defensive, also confirming Mr Coffee' worst case scenario. We wouldn't be hearing, I'm sorry.... or Ooops, I'll be right back! Instead she would be serving us spit burgers.
"FROM. the. bottom." She glared and enunciated each word. Her outstretched hand held up a cup to demonstrate her innocence and prove her point.
Gee, pawing something from the bottom with filthy hands absolves people from hand washing? I'll remember that next time I change a diaper.
I corrected her but politely, "Pardon me. I could see you were pulling them apart from the top and handing them to my kids." Ms Happy Pants shook her head at me disparagingly.
Translation: I don't freaking believe this.
I should have just asked her to wash her hands but I didn't. She continued whining, "I DON'T touch the garbage cans. I just drag them from the front to the big dumpster. (with your teeth?) It loads them up automatically. I don't touch them at. all. but I'll wash my hands if it makes you feel better."
And who knew Those Health Dept. People overreact so when it comes to poo and garbage.
"Thank you," I replied with a strained smile. Ms. Happy Pants washed up at the kitchen sink and in grand gesture, angrily threw the cups into the garbage cans. She continued taking our order as curt as you please. I ended up walking away to herd the kids while Mr Coffee finished paying. She began to get more and more agitated with Mr Coffee who, by the way, has the patience of a saint. He finally asked her after she nearly threw him a pen to sign the receipt, "Was her asking you to wash your hands that big of a problem?" He smiled, hoping to make light of her mood.
Ms. Happy Pants snipped, "SHE didn't ask me to wash. My hands are cleaner than an 8 year olds."
Poking at my kids? She wanted to die.
Mr Coffee grew very calm as his smile disappeared. From across the room, I could see his best Hitman Bob look sweep over his face. This is not one I see often. Perhaps, once in a blue moon but believe me, it's one that would keep Darth Vader wearing his pee pants. It's also very fortunate for her that I didn't hear her snotty remark because I would have gone slo-mo Matrix from across the counter and scissor-kicked her head into the deep fryer.
I'll show you special sauce...
Mr Coffee looked at her square in the eye, "Excuse me?" He was still being overtly polite, "I think you can appreciate that I just don't want my kids to get sick, yes?"
Then she stuck her foot in it, "If you were worried about germs you shouldn't be eating at a fast food restaurant."
Mr Coffee silently tucked away his wallet and headed over to our table. I asked him about it and he relayed to me her comments.
"ARE you kidding me...", I nearly choked on my iced-tea, "..does she want to lose her job?"
The manager walked out with our food. I wasn't aware but Mr Coffee had kept an eye on the grill and made sure he prepared it. Spit burgers, remember? Mr Coffee asked if he was the manager, "That would be me," he replied hesitantly. Managers don't want to wear pee pants either.
Manager Dude looked not a day over 21 but due to his Super Boss prowess, he immediately apologized, "I'm so sorry. She has a bad attitude. I'll have to speak to her. Can I get you shakes on the house?"
"We'd appreciate that." Translation: Well, duh. Ice cream makes everything better.
He made us a round of fresh raspberry shakes. They were outstandingly yummy, as usual. The shakes are why we frequent the place...that and their in-season, giant Walla Walla Onion Rings. double yum!
I don't think I've ever been treated that rudely in customer service before. Incompetent employees, sure that happens pretty much everywhere but never flat out rude.
So, what would you have done..especially if you had the ability to scissor-kick heads?
~Bee has never washed her hands before she opens a can of whoop'ass