Wednesday,
I did more chauffeuring for The (lame) Pony. Don't get me started!
After our most recent trial and tribulation, The Pony ordered our lupper
from Pizza Hut on his phone app. I was piloting T-Hoe through the
law-scoffing Backroads traffic, dwelling on the BROKEN ANKLE SPECIALIST
APPOINTMENT QUAGMIRE in which we were still enmeshed, and not paying
direct attention to his droning of the order.
"Okay. So we ARE doing the curbside pickup, right?"
"Um. Are we? I order and place a time for pickup, and go to the drive-thru."
"The app doesn't let me do that."
"I bet it does."
"It
says to park in the designated space, and they'll bring it out. There's
a button here for when you arrive. They should bring it out within two
minutes."
"Um. Okay? I won't know where to park. You'll have to point it out to me."
"It wants a description of the car. Black Tahoe. Would you happen to know the year?"
"2008."
"Now I need your debit card."
"Okay. But I always order, then pay at the drive-thru."
"This
wants it ahead of time. Because they will just bring out the food. Like
Domino's. It asks where to put the order. Back seat."
"All right."
So
we get there, and I see no less than five workers in their red visors
milling around in the parking spaces opposite the drive-thru. With two
of their delivery cars parked there, and about four empty parking
spaces.
"Do I turn in here? Is that where we wait?"
"I don't think so. That's the drive-thru."
"Okay.
I'll go to the other side. The regular parking lot. There's a car
behind me. I can't just stop to look. Huh. I don't see any marked
spaces. How will they know we're here? Should I go back around to the
drive-thru side?"
"Maybe? We can look at those spaces."
Around
I went. Still employees milling. Looking at US like we were crazy. No
marked parking. Just their two delivery cars, and four empty spaces.
"Well,
I'm going to the drive-thru. I'll ask there. I wish these people would
quit staring at us. Hello. We ordered with the app, and don't know where
to park to pick it up."
"Here. This is it. The drive-thru. That will be... OH! You already paid. Let me get your order."
She
was polite and efficient. Or so I thought... From there, we headed
across the next street, to get my Diet Coke from Burger King, since I
didn't want to go into Backroads to the Gas Station Chicken Store. It's
highway robbery, the price of a large BK soda! Anyhoo... as I was
pulling away from the drive-thru, a boneless-wing-eating Pony said,
"HEY! Pizza Hut forgot the two 20 oz sodas that came with our Personal Pan Pizzas!"
Indeed
they had! It didn't concern me much, because they only had Pepsi
products, and The Pony was getting both of them that he liked, one for
today and one for tomorrow. A Root Beer and a Dr. Pepper, I think. I
picked up the receipt. Yep! They were at the bottom, with no price by
them, because they were part of a deal. Good thing we were only two
blocks away. I went back to the drive-thru.
A
totally different person slid open that window! In fact, he didn't even
look like he worked there. Like maybe he was a random customer who'd
snuck behind the counter. He had a Belushi-esque quality about him. And a
wonky eye. Without a red visor.
"Hi. We just picked up our order, but we didn't get our sodas. Here's the receipt. And could we please have a fork, too?"
"Okay. Let me see. I'll get them for you."
Off
he went, and returned with the sodas in a bag, and a fork for The Pony,
who was perfectly fine eating boneless wings slathered in garlic
parmesan sauce with his fingers, but T-Hoe and I were not.
"He was nice. Not sure he was really an employee, but we got our bottles of soda. Was it just me, or did he have a wonky eye."
"Yes. But it's not really polite to mention that."
"It's not like I said it to his face! I just thought something was off."
I hate drive throughs and self checkouts. I also hate pickles, but that has nothing to do with your post...I was just on a "I hate roll."
ReplyDeleteI will not use a self checkout. One time was enough, and a young Genius persuaded me. He did all the work. I will not.
DeletePickles... I love them, except for those quasi-pickle sweet versions, or bread and butter pickles. Not real pickles to me! Gotta be dill. My grandma made the best ones ever. Hick has a jar of Grandma's pickles that is 30 years old, and wants to eat them. NO!
Better to eat them and enjoy them than have them sit forever being wasted.
DeleteOh my gosh! I'm not SAVING them for sentimental reasons! I'm afraid of BOTULISM! Surely those seals in the lids start to deteriorate over 30 years. Even a commercially-canned product would not last that long!
Deletecan; tell you how many times I;ve gine through a drive through asked for extra pickles and onions and there are NONE. Aggravating.
ReplyDeleteOr when you pay for an extra sauce for breadsticks, and don't get the extra sauce! One time I went to a Sonic drive-thru halfway home from my hour-away teaching job, and ordered a burger with NO ONIONS. Of course they put a pound of onions on that burger I unwrapped a few miles down the road. You'd think it was on purpose...
Deleteperhaps they heard 'Mo' onions (more)
DeleteService done right? Let me think on that a while. I'll get back to you when I find an example.
DeleteI'm pretty sure they heard: "Go ahead and mess with my order so you can have a good laugh, since I'm just a stranger passing through, and not one of your regulars."
DeleteI have a feeling I might be waiting a while for an example of service done right. Unless it's a long-ago memory.
Seems like when Hick left he took all the good luck vibes with him so you and The Pony just can't catch a break.
ReplyDeleteHeh, heh! The Pony caught a break!
Delete