Friday afternoon, 1630 hours.
Graduation Weekend.
not even beer o'clock yet, and wait times for orders are already approaching an hour.
2 kitchen ninjas, one road warrior, and one utility man.
and me.
Apparently, today everybody wants me to lose my cool.
Enter the old man, stage left.
He walks slowly to the counter and begins studying a menu. Looks to be about 80-ish, neatly dressed and wearing a hat that appears to signify his work in a previous life as the commander of a naval vessel.
Time seems to drag out like a bad acid trip at a bingo hall. Finally, he speaks.
"I'd like a large French Dip and a small Bad Hunter pizza, please."
"Alright, will you be coming back to pick this up, or would you like us to deliver it to you?"
"well, how long will it be?"
I can just tell by the way he carries himself. Before I even open my mouth to speak, I know this is going to end badly.
"probably around 50 to 60 minutes."
"50 to 60 minutes!? That's outrageous! I'm not waiting an hour for a pizza and a sandwich!"
(be respectful, J, this is a WW2 vet you're talking to, he's earned your respect...be polite)
"well, sir, it is Friday evening on graduation weekend. we are extremely busy. We'd be happy to deliver it to you so you don't have to come back to get it."
"IT DOES NOT TAKE AN HOUR TO MAKE A PIZZA AND A SANDWICH!!"
"No, sir, it takes about ten minutes, just like most of the 6 or 7 orders in front of it in the line are going to take."
"WELL IF IT ONLY TAKES TEN MINUTES, THEN I WANT IT IN TEN MINUTES!!!"
"well, sir, all those other people who have already ordered have been quoted a time that will no longer be accurate if I put your order in front of theirs. Are you telling me that you think that all of these families' dinners should be late so you can get your food now?"
"YOU'RE A LIAR!!"
"What?!"
"IS IT TEN MINUTES OR AN HOUR?"
"neither." I think I've seen this guy in town before. I think I know who he is.
"YOU LYING COCKSUCKER!!!!!!!"
now I know who he is. I haven't seen him since I was a little kid, and he terrified me back then. Burt McKie. Guy used to command an entire carrier battle group in the pacific theater. That's he sort of thing you have to respect in a man, no matter what he just called you. But I know how to get his goat.
"now it's an hour and a half."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL TELL EVERYONE IN THIS TOWN TO NEVER EAT HERE AGAIN!!"
"By the way, how is Nicole doing? If you see her, tell her I said hi. Tell her to call me. She has my number."
Bingo. I have now successfully goaded an 80-something year old war hero into taking a swing at me. I twitch at him and buck my chest and shoulders forward just a c-hair.
"FUCKING COCKSUCKER!!!"
he turns and runs for the door, and by "runs" I mean "totters towards in a gait that is slow and shuffling, yet somehow strangely urgent."
"YOUR MOTHER MUST BE SORRY SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A BASTARD LIKE YOU!!"
Wrong thing to say, dude.
I walk quickly out to his car and lean in his window. As my right hand retrieves my keys and places them at the ready, I get within six inches of his face.
"I just want you to know that it's not nice to talk bad about other peoples' mothers, no matter what everyone says about yours." Total ownage.
I have left him speechless with apoplectic rage. As he stomps the gas and peels out, I lay the key along the side of his car, holding it in place as he speeds out of the parking lot. Damn, that's an ugly scratch, and he doesn't even know I gave it to him.
Ownage is now 169% complete. And there's a good chance that I'll run into the aforementioned Nicole tonight at The Reef.
Perhaps today won't be so bad after all.
Hehehe...but whatever happened to the hippie kid? was he a local or just passing thru on tour with Widespread Panic or something? I mean, couldn't he do something about you fucking up his car? And what if it was his P's? how does he explain that?
I think "He hit me in the face with a bottle" trumps "he beat up my truck" in that sort of situation.
8)
TROOF...but everyone knows hippies are liars...I suppose you do have a witness though..And why is it that customers like to take swings or throw bottles at your head whenever they don't get what they want?
I can be INCREDIBLY abrasive and condescending when I want to be.
8)
Quote from: East Coast HustleI can be INCREDIBLY abrasive and condescending when I want to be.
8)
we never would've figured that out :wink:
Quote from: East Coast HustleI can be INCREDIBLY abrasive and condescending when I want to be.
8)
Hehehe..yeah, I figured you might have poked them with a pointy stick or something....
169% owned, indeed. :twisted:
The keying was a fine dusting of sweet cocaine to top off the lemon meringue pie. Nice.
THIS GIVES ME THE GIGGLES!
:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
Another very good piece.
bumped for Badger.
No real hippie would drink a Starbucks frappucino.
But these stories are great. Did you meet up with Nicole later and "sink your battleship"?
Another good one!
Have you checked out his "summer vacation" story?
I'll see if I can find it.
I don't think so...
And thank you.
Quote from: LMNO on November 20, 2006, 06:53:49 PM
Have you checked out his "summer vacation" story?
I'll see if I can find it.
wonder if I can finish that one before I start living the sequel.
j00 bettah man! *needs closure*
bump for Nigel and Suu.
Quote from: Emerald City Hustle on August 08, 2005, 10:13:18 PM
Friday afternoon, 1630 hours.
Graduation Weekend.
not even beer o'clock yet, and wait times for orders are already approaching an hour.
2 kitchen ninjas, one road warrior, and one utility man.
and me.
Apparently, today everybody wants me to lose my cool.
Enter the old man, stage left.
He walks slowly to the counter and begins studying a menu. Looks to be about 80-ish, neatly dressed and wearing a hat that appears to signify his work in a previous life as the commander of a naval vessel.
Time seems to drag out like a bad acid trip at a bingo hall. Finally, he speaks.
"I'd like a large French Dip and a small Bad Hunter pizza, please."
"Alright, will you be coming back to pick this up, or would you like us to deliver it to you?"
"well, how long will it be?"
I can just tell by the way he carries himself. Before I even open my mouth to speak, I know this is going to end badly.
"probably around 50 to 60 minutes."
"50 to 60 minutes!? That's outrageous! I'm not waiting an hour for a pizza and a sandwich!"
(be respectful, J, this is a WW2 vet you're talking to, he's earned your respect...be polite)
"well, sir, it is Friday evening on graduation weekend. we are extremely busy. We'd be happy to deliver it to you so you don't have to come back to get it."
"IT DOES NOT TAKE AN HOUR TO MAKE A PIZZA AND A SANDWICH!!"
"No, sir, it takes about ten minutes, just like most of the 6 or 7 orders in front of it in the line are going to take."
"WELL IF IT ONLY TAKES TEN MINUTES, THEN I WANT IT IN TEN MINUTES!!!"
"well, sir, all those other people who have already ordered have been quoted a time that will no longer be accurate if I put your order in front of theirs. Are you telling me that you think that all of these families' dinners should be late so you can get your food now?"
"YOU'RE A LIAR!!"
"What?!"
"IS IT TEN MINUTES OR AN HOUR?"
"neither." I think I've seen this guy in town before. I think I know who he is.
"YOU LYING COCKSUCKER!!!!!!!"
now I know who he is. I haven't seen him since I was a little kid, and he terrified me back then. Burt McKie. Guy used to command an entire carrier battle group in the pacific theater. That's he sort of thing you have to respect in a man, no matter what he just called you. But I know how to get his goat.
"now it's an hour and a half."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL TELL EVERYONE IN THIS TOWN TO NEVER EAT HERE AGAIN!!"
"By the way, how is Nicole doing? If you see her, tell her I said hi. Tell her to call me. She has my number."
Bingo. I have now successfully goaded an 80-something year old war hero into taking a swing at me. I twitch at him and buck my chest and shoulders forward just a c-hair.
"FUCKING COCKSUCKER!!!"
he turns and runs for the door, and by "runs" I mean "totters towards in a gait that is slow and shuffling, yet somehow strangely urgent."
"YOUR MOTHER MUST BE SORRY SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A BASTARD LIKE YOU!!"
Wrong thing to say, dude.
I walk quickly out to his car and lean in his window. As my right hand retrieves my keys and places them at the ready, I get within six inches of his face.
"I just want you to know that it's not nice to talk bad about other peoples' mothers, no matter what everyone says about yours." Total ownage.
I have left him speechless with apoplectic rage. As he stomps the gas and peels out, I lay the key along the side of his car, holding it in place as he speeds out of the parking lot. Damn, that's an ugly scratch, and he doesn't even know I gave it to him.
Ownage is now 169% complete. And there's a good chance that I'll run into the aforementioned Nicole tonight at The Reef.
Perhaps today won't be so bad after all.
:lulz:
When I was in food/customer service I hated people who wanted to be put ahead of everyone else who got there first. Who the fuck do they think they are?
I forgot all about this. I love this shit.
Please continue.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on March 16, 2010, 04:40:10 PM
I forgot all about this. I love this shit.
Please continue.
2nded!