First of all, the plight of the underpaid worker:
For lunch, I went to Taco Bell. I didn’t go to the one a quarter of a mile away from work, though because I knew that they are dirty and horrible there. Instead, I went to a “cleaner and newer” Taco Bell about ten minutes away from work. It was a beautiful day.
There were about six cars in the drive through, not a breeze through, but not out of the question either. I happened to have a newspaper in the car and it was absolutely gorgeous out, so I rolled down the Monte’s windows and kicked back and waited. It took about five minutes to get to the menu/speaker. I ordered a “STUFT” burrito, a gordita, and an extra large Diet Pepsi. The girl on the speaker says “Is that all?” I say “Yes, thanks”. Then she loudly and in an irritated tone of voice says “IS THAT ALL?” and I say louder “YES!” Ok, proceed to the pickup window with cash in hand! If only it was that easy.
It took a mere 20 minutes for me to drive the 45 feet from the speaker to the window. When I get to the window, it took 5 minutes for the girl behind the counter to acknowledge me, but like I said, I had my newspaper, the weather was fab and I was happy.
She comes to the window and I had her a twenty. She then goes through each and every bag of food on the counter four times each before she determines which one holds my gordita and “Stuft” burrito. Then she laboriously makes my change, and hands it to me. Again to disappear. Finally she returns again.
“We’re out of the Extra large cups” she says finally.
“Ok” I say, completely flexible.
She stands there staring at me. I think she thinks that we’re done now and I should leave.
“Well, so what are we going to do about it?” I was really more prompting her to do something.
“WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?” she says, with a sneer. I’m not sure if she thinks I expected her to materialize the cups from nothing.
I just wanted her to get me a soda, I didn’t care, but truthfully, I had paid for an extra large soda, so it was reasonable to expect that the difference be refunded. I didn’t think this totally through, though, because if I had I would have realized that the two cup sizes were only 10 cents difference.
“Well, you could get me a large pepsi and then refund me the dif-” Too late, she had left the window and went to the back of the store. Probably to get her manager to open the register, I think. That’s when I do the math and realize that there was only about 10 cents difference between sizes. I try to flag someone down to tell them that it’s not a big deal, just give me the large diet soda.
Then I see the girl, outside, crossing the drive thru lane, taking off her hat.
She sees me looking at her and GIVES ME THE BIRD!!!!!
I’m shocked. I’m aghast. Truly, my tone of voice had been extremely pleasant. I was not upset about what had now been more than a 30 minute wait in the drive thru. I had only suggested that she give me a different size drink instead of the extra large one I had already paid for.
I look in the window and I see another Taco Bell guy putting on the “drive thru” gear of weight-belty thing and head set.
He comes to the window and says “Let’s see, you had the Stuft Burrito and the gordita?”
“Yes,” I say, ” but I already have my food and change back. I just need my soda.”
“We’re out of extra large cups.”
“I know, just give me a large diet pepsi.”
“Uh, ok.”
“What just happened with the other girl?” I ask.
“Uh, she just quit.”
I’m stunned. “I figured something must have happened, since she just flipped me off.” I say, expecting him to say something else.
“Uh, oh. Ok, here’s your soda.”
So that’s the quality that is Taco Bell. I refuse to feel guilty about this. I mean, if I had actually been a bitch, I would be wearing this incident like a badge of honor. “Watch out for me, babe, I’ve already caused a Taco Bell girl to quit and I can take you out too!”. But this was completely unexpected and somehow I’m a scapegoat.
On a lighter side, the wall in my department is coming down, or is actually mostly down as I write this. Yesterday, we wrote graffiti on the wall with PERMANENT MARKER! It was exciting. I’m just a four year old in a 29 11/12 year old’s body!
Now if only they could do something about the glass ceiling.
