I have a question or two for you.
How many times, in your life, has someone screwed up your order — any order; food, car parts, an online purchase, etc.? If you’re anything like me, that number is a bazillion-trillion-fuckmillion-and-one.
Now, what do you do the majority of the time? Do you make a huge fuss and get whoever’s to blame in trouble? Do you calmly just deal with whatever you’ve been given? Or, if you’re like me, do you make a small fuss, go back (or return or call or whatever) and make sure your item is fixed or correct or whatever, without turning into a raving lunatic and making sure someone pays?
I can’t speak for any of you, and I know there are some of each type of person out there, but I’d bet the majority of people probably does the third. We make sure our order is correct but we don’t make anyone pay for the mistake.
Sometimes we even smile and thank them for doing their damn job the second time.
This morning I went to WaWa. For those of you who don’t know, WaWa is a convenience store that sells cigarettes and bread and milk and ice cream and candy and deli meats and all sorts of stuff (except liquor). They’ve also, in somewhat recent years, starting serving more and more hot to-go foods, like soup and sides and subs and quesadillas and pizza and eggs and french toast, to name a few. So I ordered my usual — what I get nearly every morning — french toast and bacon. Seriously, all they have to do is heat the french toast. The bacon’s already prepared, the french toast is already prepared, it just has to be heated. It takes like 30 seconds for them to heat the french toast and put it and the bacon in a bowl for me.
And it did take about 30 seconds. And I was pleased. Until I got home and realized there wasn’t any freakin’ bacon. None whatsoever. Not even a sliver.
My dad often orders extra bacon, and they forget that because the ordering system is somewhat of a mess and it’s a bit confusing when someone orders extra. I get that. But we’re actually such regular customers that they’ve started adding extra bacon every time we order, simply because they’re so used to it. But this time there was no bacon. How the frick do you forget half of the entire order? Three pieces of toast, and oh, what’s that? THREE PIECES OF NOTHING.
I suppose it was easy for the girl making my order to forget something that says:
ORDER NUMBER 978
FRENCH TOAST (3)
because she was hanging out and socializing and conversing with her friends the whole time she was making it. The whole 30 seconds of her life I took away from her friends when she was supposed to be working. But instead of making a “bacon” mental note she was probably making a “this guy is so totally cute, OMG” mental note so my bacon was sadly forgotten.
Anyway, I didn’t realize this until I got home, and WaWa doesn’t deliver (though seriously, they should — make a note WaWa) so I had to go all the way back. And go all the way back I did, because fuck eating french toast without bacon.
I told you this immensely long bacon story because when I got there I could have gone up to the person at the cash register and made a fuss to them. I could have demanded to speak to the manager. I could have told anyone other than the girl who made me the french toast with a side of nothing, so someone else knew what had happened. But I didn’t.
I walked straight up to the to-go counter and waited five minutes for the girl to finish texting and then calmly and politely told her that I had just ordered and gotten no bacon. She giggled to herself, said oops, took my order back, and added bacon. Five seconds. Five seconds. Then she told me she gave me extra bacon, and I smiled real big and gave her a hearty Thank you! and then she apologized. At the end!
And then I walked past all the other workers and the manager and went home and ate my fucking french toast and bacon.
I’m sure not much would have been done if I had told a manager, but at least someone else would have known. At least she would have been held responsible for her actions. At least, if I had said something and she keeps socializing instead of doing her job, management will realize that maybe she’s not the best worker.
There are so many screw-ups all the time because no one has to fucking answer for their mistakes.
I am what’s wrong with the world, because I give people the benefit of the doubt and think Oh, maybe they’re having a bad day. No need to get anyone else involved. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop thinking that way. Maybe it’s time to get people in trouble so my orders are finally made correctly.
People of the world, stand up with me and be assholes. Let’s make a fuss over the little things, because if we don’t, who the hell will?