OK, so you remember my story about the whatley diner waitress, the mummy/skeletor and her inability to make shakes. If not, I'll refresh you all.
Whately, Massachusetts' Diner has a waitress who I ever so affectionately like to call The Mummy... or sometimes Skeletor. Because well, that's what she looks like. And I only do this because she has enormous amounts of suckage. I wouldn't dream of making such fun of a nice person. Anyway so whenever I used to go there, I would like to order a shake (or frappe, right?) with my egg and cheese sandwich with home fries. The dialogue would go something like this:
Me: "I'd like a chocolate shake please."
Skeletor: "Umm.. our um.. shake machine is broken!"
Me: "oh. Then coffee please."
OK. So the next time I visit the Whately Diner, I have a different waiter.
Me: "Hey, is your shake machine still broken?"
Waiter: "Huh?"
Me: "Last time I was here, the waitress told me the shake machine was broken."
Waiter: "No, it has never been broken. In fact, we recently got a new, shiny, awesome fancy shake machine."
Me: "Cool, I'd like a chocolate shake then, please."
Waiter: "No problem."
Yum. But.. hmmm! I guess Skeletor just didn't want to make me a shake? She didn't want to go through the trouble? O rmaybe she just doesn't know how to use the machine? Or maybe she was just innocently mistaken. Well, then. The next time I visit the Whately Diner, Skeletor is my waitress.
Me: "Hey I heard your shake machine works great and it's brand new. Can I have a chocolate shake please?"
Skeletor: "Umm.. oh.. umm... we're out of chocolate ice cream!"
WHAT!?? @$!#$ alright then....
Me: "OK, can I have a strawberry shake then?"
Skeletor: "We're also out of strawberry!"
Me: "Coffee shake?"
Skeletor: "I'm sorry, no coffee ice cream."
$@#!$!!!!! Well I'm sure as hell not going to order a VANILLA fucking shake, so I abandon the notion of a shake. Fucking, just ask someone to fucking help you make a shake, Skeletor!! GrraahH!!!!
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Part 2. City Convenience, Mass. Ave, Boston.
A month or so ago, i went down there to get like a lemonade and a cookie, or something. The price was around $2.50. I tried to pay with my debit card. The lousy Ewok behind the counter snips at me. "What you wanna pay with a card for? It's only $2.50!" Yelling.
Well, I didn't have any cash on me. So charge it, you lousy Ewok. He took a good 10 MINUTES to do the procedure. Obviously, he's a little inept at swiping cards. So he didn't want to have to do that, so he tried to bully me into paying with cash. Anyway, I get my stuff and leave and my life continues.
Well OK. TODAY. JUST NOW. The Ewok is working again.
I buy a quart of Ornage Juice and a bag of popcorn. The price is $4.49. I try to pay with my card. He takes it, psuhes some buttons on his register, I'm not really paying attention to what he's doing because Mila Kunis is on the cover of a MAXIM magazine on the rack in front of me.
Ewok: "It's declined."
Me: "What?!" (I have thousands of dollars as a balance in that card.)
Ewok: "The card is declined. There's an ATM right next door."
Me: "Gimme that!"
I grumble, grab the card and go next door and withdraw a 20 dollar bill from my ABUNDANTLY SUFFICIENT FUNDS. I grumble my way back to the store and pay in cash. Now here's the relevance:
He takes the cash, but doesn't type anything into the register. Instead, he finds the receipt that he had already printed out from when i was in there and he tried to type it in a few minutes ago. The price is $4.49.
BUT! This receipt has no signature ine! So what happened actually, was that he rang it up as normal, realized he fucked up, and LIED and told me the card was declined and sent me into the cold blustery wind to get cash $#@!$@!!!
And to top it off, he had to pull out a calculator to figure out how much change he needed to give me.
"It's 15.51" I said.
"OK... " he said as he continued to punch it into the calculator.
"15.51" I say again, impatiently.
He is still punching it in.
After, oh, 2 minutes, he comes up with the result. It's 15.51. He gives me the change.
WHATELY DINER SYNDROME: When an employee of some place doesn't know how to do an aspect of their job, they lie about it and the customer ends up not getting a shake or is in some other way inconvenienced.
Whately, Massachusetts' Diner has a waitress who I ever so affectionately like to call The Mummy... or sometimes Skeletor. Because well, that's what she looks like. And I only do this because she has enormous amounts of suckage. I wouldn't dream of making such fun of a nice person. Anyway so whenever I used to go there, I would like to order a shake (or frappe, right?) with my egg and cheese sandwich with home fries. The dialogue would go something like this:
Me: "I'd like a chocolate shake please."
Skeletor: "Umm.. our um.. shake machine is broken!"
Me: "oh. Then coffee please."
OK. So the next time I visit the Whately Diner, I have a different waiter.
Me: "Hey, is your shake machine still broken?"
Waiter: "Huh?"
Me: "Last time I was here, the waitress told me the shake machine was broken."
Waiter: "No, it has never been broken. In fact, we recently got a new, shiny, awesome fancy shake machine."
Me: "Cool, I'd like a chocolate shake then, please."
Waiter: "No problem."
Yum. But.. hmmm! I guess Skeletor just didn't want to make me a shake? She didn't want to go through the trouble? O rmaybe she just doesn't know how to use the machine? Or maybe she was just innocently mistaken. Well, then. The next time I visit the Whately Diner, Skeletor is my waitress.
Me: "Hey I heard your shake machine works great and it's brand new. Can I have a chocolate shake please?"
Skeletor: "Umm.. oh.. umm... we're out of chocolate ice cream!"
WHAT!?? @$!#$ alright then....
Me: "OK, can I have a strawberry shake then?"
Skeletor: "We're also out of strawberry!"
Me: "Coffee shake?"
Skeletor: "I'm sorry, no coffee ice cream."
$@#!$!!!!! Well I'm sure as hell not going to order a VANILLA fucking shake, so I abandon the notion of a shake. Fucking, just ask someone to fucking help you make a shake, Skeletor!! GrraahH!!!!
----------------------------------------
Part 2. City Convenience, Mass. Ave, Boston.
A month or so ago, i went down there to get like a lemonade and a cookie, or something. The price was around $2.50. I tried to pay with my debit card. The lousy Ewok behind the counter snips at me. "What you wanna pay with a card for? It's only $2.50!" Yelling.
Well, I didn't have any cash on me. So charge it, you lousy Ewok. He took a good 10 MINUTES to do the procedure. Obviously, he's a little inept at swiping cards. So he didn't want to have to do that, so he tried to bully me into paying with cash. Anyway, I get my stuff and leave and my life continues.
Well OK. TODAY. JUST NOW. The Ewok is working again.
I buy a quart of Ornage Juice and a bag of popcorn. The price is $4.49. I try to pay with my card. He takes it, psuhes some buttons on his register, I'm not really paying attention to what he's doing because Mila Kunis is on the cover of a MAXIM magazine on the rack in front of me.
Ewok: "It's declined."
Me: "What?!" (I have thousands of dollars as a balance in that card.)
Ewok: "The card is declined. There's an ATM right next door."
Me: "Gimme that!"
I grumble, grab the card and go next door and withdraw a 20 dollar bill from my ABUNDANTLY SUFFICIENT FUNDS. I grumble my way back to the store and pay in cash. Now here's the relevance:
He takes the cash, but doesn't type anything into the register. Instead, he finds the receipt that he had already printed out from when i was in there and he tried to type it in a few minutes ago. The price is $4.49.
BUT! This receipt has no signature ine! So what happened actually, was that he rang it up as normal, realized he fucked up, and LIED and told me the card was declined and sent me into the cold blustery wind to get cash $#@!$@!!!
And to top it off, he had to pull out a calculator to figure out how much change he needed to give me.
"It's 15.51" I said.
"OK... " he said as he continued to punch it into the calculator.
"15.51" I say again, impatiently.
He is still punching it in.
After, oh, 2 minutes, he comes up with the result. It's 15.51. He gives me the change.
WHATELY DINER SYNDROME: When an employee of some place doesn't know how to do an aspect of their job, they lie about it and the customer ends up not getting a shake or is in some other way inconvenienced.
