Podcasting both weekly and weakly.


The end of the love affair

August 15th, 2005 . by Andy (TANcast's #1 Ear-Rapist)

For the 4th time in about 18 months, a specific Carl’s Jr. franchise has messed up my exceedingly simple order. Each time, I requested a “Western” burger and each time I got a “Standard” burger instead.

Four instances may sound insignificant, but it means that between 5% and 10% the time I don’t get what I ordered. I then have to either make do (if I’m too busy to leave work again) or drive back to the “restaurant” (that word doesn’t seem like it should be associated with fast food, but I am unable to locate a better one) and wait while my order is corrected. I do not, for the record, like having my hamburgers covered in salad and mayonnaise. I do, in fact, hate it.

I don’t think I’ll be going back to that restaurant again. I’m tired of the hassle for what should be “convenience food”.

The root of the the problem seems to be the worker who is not fluent in English and yet runs the drive-thru ordering system. I have had this exact, chronic problem with a specific Jack-in-the-Box near my current (soon to be former) house and because of it I can count on both hand the number of times I have patronized them in the last 2 years.

Keep in mind that I eat fast food a lot. Waaaaay too much, even.

Back to the point, though: I see no problem with people not being fluent English speakers (in fact, to believe otherwise seems small-minded and vaguely un-American to me) but in an environment where the customer will be likely be speaking English and all communication will be verbal I think perhaps some language skill might be called for. I can’t exactly point at what I want through the microphone, right?

I don’t give a flying fuck if you can’t pronounce the shit your company is selling, but if I tell you to make my order with no mayonnaise then my “Yumbo Yak” better damn well not have any fucking mayo on it, capisce? If you can’t grok that, hand the little earpiece off to someone else.

As an aside, I once went to a taqueria in downtown San Jose while drunk off my ass and ordered a burrito in Spanish. I was so drunk I forgot which language I spoke.

But they got my fucking burrito right!

THAT is how service should work: even my own inability to speak should not get between and me the food I want.

Fat Man gotta eat!

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