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Trivial Things That Make You Surly


elfenix

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21 hours ago, Rougarou said:

Counterpoint: If you are ordering food for 2 or more, from anywhere not named Chick-Fil-A, there is an 80% that something, somewhere in your order is wrong. The lesson here really is that you shouldn't eat anywhere that has a drive-thru unless it's Chick-Fil-A.

*Edit to add sacrilege, I include Whataburger in that too. Always screwing up in the drive-thru. And another thing I've actively witnessed and think is super unfortunate, the quality of worker and customer service has gone to McDonald's level the last few years.

Well they all make minimum wage, which is terribly low. The store "manager" might get a few bucks extra per hour. Not sure why you'd expect much better service. The key is don't be picky. I never ask for anything special, except maybe extra pickles on my Sonic burger, but if they forget, no big deal. I will usually check to see if an item is missing, and if it is, I'll walk in and get them to fix it. I don't berate anyone because I don't expect anyone competent is willing to work for those wages and I imagine most of their lives suck anyway and either don't care if I'm upset or my anger will be a minimal factor in their misery. It is what it is. Alternatively, you can just not eat fast food. I rarely do but when I do I know what to expect and just grin and bear it.

Edited by 'stache
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33 minutes ago, HRSchenker said:

My first pharmacy job was at a grocery store. One time during football season I was working a Sunday and saw a woman who pissed herself walking around the entire store leaving yellow puddles everywhere, a kid pulled down his pants and shit all over the floor, a guy in a motorized scooter ran over the shit and dragged it across the entire store, some teenagers were tossing wine bottles back and forth to each other over the aisles, and Terry Glenn came over to the pharmacy and took some pictures with me and my techs. The only reason I remember that is because he died later that night in a rollover accident.

Well that was an action packed day at the office.

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46 minutes ago, 'stache said:

Well they all make minimum wage, which is terribly low. The store "manager" might get a few bucks extra per hour. Not sure why you'd expect much better service. The key is don't be picky. I never ask for anything special, except maybe extra pickles on my Sonic burger, but if they forget, no big deal. I will usually check to see if an item is missing, and if it is, I'll walk in and get them to fix it. I don't berate anyone because I don't expect anyone competent is willing to work for those wages and I imagine most of their lives suck anyway and either don't care if I'm upset or my anger will be a minimal factor in their misery. It is what it is. Alternatively, you can just not eat fast food. I rarely do but when I do I know what to expect and just grin and bear it.

Agree with you 100%, especially your penultimate sentence. Which is why a lesson I've learned in life is Don't eat anywhere with a Drive-thru unless it's Chick-Fil-A.

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1 hour ago, HRSchenker said:

My first pharmacy job was at a grocery store. One time during football season I was working a Sunday and saw a woman who pissed herself walking around the entire store leaving yellow puddles everywhere, a kid pulled down his pants and shit all over the floor, a guy in a motorized scooter ran over the shit and dragged it across the entire store, some teenagers were tossing wine bottles back and forth to each other over the aisles, and Terry Glenn came over to the pharmacy and took some pictures with me and my techs. The only reason I remember that is because he died later that night in a rollover accident.

You were safe behind a counter while all of this was happening, right? No need to be surly, just enjoy the (literal) shit show!

ETA: Terry Glenn is dead? Shit.

Edited by El Diablo
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I do most of the grocery shopping in our house, and usually end up going probably 4 times a week for quick trips on lunch break or way home in the evening. Thing I've noticed lately that make me surly:
There's almost always someone posted at each exit/entry door, trying to either get you to buy something, donate to their charity, or subscribe to their service. 
Head over to the beer and wine section and there will be a rep from every local brewery/distributor with unsolicited suggestions and samples. Spend more than one second deciding what you want and they'll be sure to tell you to grab some of whatever they are hawking.
And oh yeah, we don't stock the shelves at night anymore, just gonna go ahead and do that while the store is full of shoppers. Need to grab something off that shelf? Sorry, there's a pallet jack with 800 lbs of crap on it parked there.Throw in personal shoppers and half the traffic in the aisles is just store employees.
Finally, I'm more and more convinced that a fairly large portion, possibility even a majority of the citizenry, functions at the bare minimum level necessary to get through each day. Bewildered elderly wandering the aisles with no discernible goal. Morbidly obese mothers of 5+ filling their carts with pallets of ramen....etc.

It seems to me more and more of the traffic in grocery stores is employees pulling orders for those people too fucking lazy and self important to actually do anything for themselves. Those fuckers will flat out run you over with their carts because they are in such a hurry.
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5 hours ago, 'stache said:

Well they all make minimum wage, which is terribly low. The store "manager" might get a few bucks extra per hour. Not sure why you'd expect much better service. The key is don't be picky. I never ask for anything special, except maybe extra pickles on my Sonic burger, but if they forget, no big deal. I will usually check to see if an item is missing, and if it is, I'll walk in and get them to fix it. I don't berate anyone because I don't expect anyone competent is willing to work for those wages and I imagine most of their lives suck anyway and either don't care if I'm upset or my anger will be a minimal factor in their misery. It is what it is. Alternatively, you can just not eat fast food. I rarely do but when I do I know what to expect and just grin and bear it.

This Zen-like attitude is the bedrock approach to eating at Popeye's. 

If you haven't read the following essay, you should. 

~~~~~

Bo Bice lost the 2005 American Idol final to Carrie Underwood, a singer whose feet each weigh seventy-five pounds. Watch Carrie Underwood attempt to dance or move around a stage, and tell us where the lie is here. She cannot lift her feet more than three inches off the stage. Either she is wearing the magnet boots from Face/Off under a kind of house arrest program for undisclosed crimes, or her feet exist as superdense training sleds she drags around beneath her body.

 

 

Carrie Underwood has never been accosted at a Popeyes. Maybe she has, actually, but like the rest of us just dealt with it, because the experience of going to a Popeyes is always the same, even if you’re the second-place American Idol contestant that year getting made fun of and called “white boy” at the extremely stressful location inside Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in Atlanta.

 

You place an order. At most other restaurants, you would wait for the food. This is not the case at Popeyes. The order, having been placed into their system, is now reviewed by a central computer housed somewhere above flood level in the New Orleans suburbs. It’s probably in Metairie. Metairie feels like the right place to put a giant supercomputer dedicated to rectifying incorrectly arranged fried chicken orders.

 

No, the food is then rearranged into the proper order for you by the AlTron 4800, and beamed back to the restaurant for packaging. You ordered a two-piece spicy with red beans and rice? No, you got a three piece mild with green beans. There are two biscuits in the bag. Why? Because the AlTron 4800 knew you were a little weak in terms of gut flora, and that you needed some easy chicken work to go with that necessary vegetable matter. The lack of red beans and rice is to teach you humility; the extra biscuit is to remind you that blessings, while random and surprising, are real. God might not respond, but he doesn’t cheat you. Neither does Popeyes.

 

 

The film Wall-E depicts a world in which Popeyes has become mankind’s most important industry.

Other things might happen in these negotiations. A staffer may ignore you. A Popeyes employee might laugh when you request something, because—-well shit, what are you even doing trying to request something from Popeyes? Does one ask Mt. Everest to move aside when walking through the Himalaya? Does the lion request clearance from the elephant for safe passage across the savanna? Do you, on hearing a hurricane roaring towards your house, ask it to stop by the store for some Pedialyte and rice crackers, because you’re hungover and really don’t want the hassle of dealing with it and a weather system simultaneously?

 

No. You don’t get to ask things of the indifferent and superior natural world, and you do not get to ask things of Popeyes. That is the point: in a late-stage capitalism where eventually the robots will simply bring your customized, allergen-free consumer goods to your house, Popeyes does not deliver. It does not cater to your whims. In fact, it will deny them, and give you something else. It will hand you spicy when you want mild and mild when you want spicy because sometimes too much fulfillment softens you, and makes you unappreciative for the random grace of unanswered prayers.

 

Sometimes you need to be told no. When that time arrives, Popeyes is happy to deliver.

 

You might even get the rogue moment when, confronted with a situation where rules would have to be consulted, Popeyes decides to pardon you for no reason and give you the store. I once walked in shy one order of kids chicken fingers and left with two additional full meals because the employee just started laughing and handing me food at random. I have been gifted wings that clearly belonged to someone at the drive-thru who, seeing me getting them through the window, gestured to me plaintively like a man watching a Viking torch his house. I have been given a bag full of silverware and napkins for five when clearly eating by myself.

 

Why would anyone stop this random outcome generator that spits out delicious fried chicken and chicken-related products? Why would you want this to be any more regular? Are the results of your increasingly automated life not already regular, predictable, and boring enough?

 

 

An employee might even call you “white boy,” because guess what—if you’re in a predominantly African-American city, a really good way to identify you in a crowd of people all waiting for their spiritually educational Popeyes is to refer to you as “that white boy.” Which you might be, if you happen to be a white boy going to Popeyes in need of a spicy chicken fix.

 

Take some comfort from that, Bo Bice: at least you were acknowledged as a person, and not simply thrown a bag of chicken with a no-look pass from the manager.

 

You should be thankful for either, especially since you’re a 2005 American Idol runner-up getting free pub in 2017 for riding false equivalencies about race all the way to a triumphant and tearful appearance on Fox 5 news and a minor wave across the low-information seas of Facebook. The manager there is making $13 an hour, and barely subsisting in life while making you the best fried chicken on the planet on a daily basis. The fry cook is making way, way less.

 

Having been handed the order you actually need, you leave the Popeyes, perhaps after negotiating for a few extras you might have originally wanted, but clearly did not need. Later, when you get in the car, you’ll realize your drink is half Fanta Strawberry, half Dr. Pepper. You drink it, and reflect on how this double step to diabetes made you so much happier than you were thirty minutes ago.

 

That’s the Popeyes experience. It should not change. In a world of endless customization, Popeyes has the daring and bravery and yeah maybe just enough benign corporate neglect going on to say: “look, you’re paying for the chicken, not to have your ass kissed and have a blessed day like you’re dining at a megachurch devoted to the worship of dyslexic cows.” No. NO. You get none of this. You’re not in love. We’re not friends. Hell, you might make an enemy in a Popeyes, a mortal one at that, one devoted to never giving you a single goddamn dash of Cajun Sparkle in your life.

 

You’ll have to learn to work with each other, too, because a.) you will be back at that same location two weeks later, and b.) the spiritual lessons of a Popeyes trip never cease. You will deal, you will cope, and you will emerge with what you need, customer—never more, never less. It wasn’t what you asked for, but it is enough, and you are a more complete human for the experience. If you leave unhappy, that is a failing on your part, because that’s how church works. Open your heart next time, white boy.

 

P.S. Your name is Bo Bice. This is not the first time your name has been made fun of, and it will not be the last, especially since we just realized your name could be BOB ICE. BOB. ICE.

 

 

https://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2017/1/4/14166686/popeyes-is-perfect-and-you-are-the-problem

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8 hours ago, SwanderedTalent said:

doesn't seem to be any set schedule for this either-- I have seen it at 8 AM on a Monday, I have seen it late afternoon on the weekend, etc. I would try to avoid it if I knew when the fuck it was going to be (happen)

Their supply truck(s) probably came in at 7 AM on a Monday, mid-afternoon on the weekend, etc.

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Well they all make minimum wage, which is terribly low. The store "manager" might get a few bucks extra per hour. Not sure why you'd expect much better service. The key is don't be picky. I never ask for anything special, except maybe extra pickles on my Sonic burger, but if they forget, no big deal. I will usually check to see if an item is missing, and if it is, I'll walk in and get them to fix it. I don't berate anyone because I don't expect anyone competent is willing to work for those wages and I imagine most of their lives suck anyway and either don't care if I'm upset or my anger will be a minimal factor in their misery. It is what it is. Alternatively, you can just not eat fast food. I rarely do but when I do I know what to expect and just grin and bear it.
People who make all these customizations to their fast food burgers are the fucking worst. They hold up the line ordering 5 burgers and all of them are being customized. Go to a real burger place if you want all that and are that picky.
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My cities "metro" population is roughly 230k. Nothing spectacular. Meh size, whatever. The local morning news that runs from 430am-7am mon-fri and they roll out a traffic watcher guy at 6 a.m.

Barring road construction or accident, we hardly see traffic jams. Solid traffic but it moves. this is a normal shot from this guys dash cam every day. 783e54675d779c147e66955a25038ace.jpg

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My cities "metro" population is roughly 230k. Nothing spectacular. Meh size, whatever. The local morning news that runs from 430am-7am mon-fri and they roll out a traffic watcher guy at 6 a.m.

Barring road construction or accident, we hardly see traffic jams. Solid traffic but it moves. this is a normal shot from this guys dash cam every day. 783e54675d779c147e66955a25038ace.jpg
This isn't the subtle brag thread
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When people don’t follow through.

Recruiter cold emailed me about a position. I told her I was interested and we could talk yesterday afternoon. She then says she can’t because she has something going on and that she would call me this morning. I said great. I message her this morning saying anytime is good for that phone call. Haven’t heard shit. I want to tell her to fuck off but I really want to leave this job.


Maybe not so trivial.

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On 7/19/2019 at 10:20 PM, retsevlys said:

Fuck a commercial with phone notifications dinging in it.  Same thing with a doorbell in the commercial.

Oh hell this.  I've lost a great deal of hearing over the years due to loud guitars and construction equipment.  I continually catch myself screaming "come in" or "will someone please answer the damned phone". Mrs Shooter just facepalms and shakes her head.

Oh, and the younger grandkids just think I'm crazy. Yep getting old sucks.

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On 7/23/2019 at 12:12 PM, Judge Roybeanbag said:

Yeah, that ties in.  See, I'll get gas, and then if I need to go into the store, I'll move away from the pumps and park in a regular spot.  Except there aren't any, because Joe blow is sitting there browsing on his phone, scratching off lotto tickets, taking a nap or whatever the fuck it is he's doing.  Stop impeding commerce!!

It's usually Chad Briscoe checking to make sure his two bungholes are ok.

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On 7/23/2019 at 2:58 PM, NeverMarryAStripper said:


It seems to me more and more of the traffic in grocery stores is employees pulling orders for those people too fucking lazy and self important to actually do anything for themselves. Those fuckers will flat out run you over with their carts because they are in such a hurry.

Well, that can be beneficial when you consider the alternative...all the extra 400lb+ slobs that have to to take up entire aisles lumbering along 4-5 abreast blocking entirely everyone in their paths.  Not to mention the 6 morbidly obese children hanging on their shopping cart (more than likely motorized)

They seem to appear in packs, there's never just one group like that.

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5 hours ago, Patricio Swayze said:

When people don’t follow through.

Recruiter cold emailed me about a position. I told her I was interested and we could talk yesterday afternoon. She then says she can’t because she has something going on and that she would call me this morning. I said great. I message her this morning saying anytime is good for that phone call. Haven’t heard shit. I want to tell her to fuck off but I really want to leave this job.


Maybe not so trivial.

So be patient, fuck the daylights out of her and get the new job... with a big raise and a solid referral.

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Taco Bell food seems better than it was a decade or so ago when it was shitty. But the few times I've gone there for food in the past year I'm like the only guy in the place, there are 9 employees in the kitchen but they still take forever just to slap together a few simple tacos.
Bean and cheese burrito is still the same from back in the 90s when it was $.59. That's all that matters. Still cures a hangover with whatever drug they still put in it.
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