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xaaraAfter having worked a year-long two weeks in the fast food industry, I have compiled a list of things you can do to make everyone's day easier. I'm serious about this. If people did half the things on this list, it would make my life infinitely easier.
1. If you're in a group of more than two people, either designate one person as the orderer or have each person make his complete order. Nothing is more confusing and frustrating than to have a family of people yelling about what they want--it's impossible to pick out the relevant information from among the useless babble.
2. As a sort of corollary to the above, make your whole order the first time you come up to the counter. If you make a complete order and then decide you want an applesauce, that's fine. If you order a cheeseburger, wait for it, then order a Coke, wait for that, then order a hot dog and wait for that, you're wasting everyone's time and pissing your cashier off.
3. Speak to the cashier. It's generally noisy inside restaurants, so if you're looking up at the menu and ordering, chances are the cashier can't hear you. Look at the menu all you want, and order as slowly as you need to, but don't talk to the menu.
4. If you've been waiting in line for some time and there are people behind you, you must make up your mind before you arrive at the counter. No one has time for you to debate the relative merits of lettuce and mayo during the lunch rush.
5. Do your utmost not to address the cashier by his/her name. Speaking as a cashier, I hate it. I already feel used and insignificant most of the time--the fact that the customer knows my name while I know nothing about him (except maybe if he's British) places me on an even lower level. It doesn't make me feel any better if you say, "Thank you, Carmen"--a simple "Thanks" is more than enough. Obviously, if I have my back turned and you just remembered that your kid hates Sprite and you want a lemonade instead, fine. Name me away. But otherwise, please don't.
6. Don't assume things about the cashiers. At least four or five times a day, Spanish-speaking families come in, take one look at the front line, and make a beeline for my register, chattering at me in Spanish just because my name is Carmen. Each time I have to tell them that while I understand enough to take most of their orders, I don't speak Spanish. And though I can't tell them this, of course, I find it highly offensive that they don't even ask.
7. Let the cashier do his/her own job. Don't tell me what your change should be or which of the hundred identical burgers I should give you or how many twists I should put on your soft-serve cone. Nothing is guaranteed to piss me off more quickly.
8. Finally, be pleasant. If you come up and smile at me, ask me how I am, tell me you're glad to finally be in the only place in the zoo that takes credit cards, ask me whether I like the chicken or the fish sandwich better, I'm going to give you great service. If you come up and respond to my "Hello; how may I help you?" with "Gimme ______," I'm going to give you pretty good service. When there are two hundred people waiting in line, the difference between great and pretty good becomes immense. I will bend over backwards to help a pleasant customer, even going so far as to request special orders from the kitchen, but if you're mean to me, I'll probably just tell you we're out; order something else.
I'm sure there are more, but those are my points for now.
Oh, and I just wrote "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" while talking to the guy who found 160 proof absinthe in Italy. Somehow, it all got jumbled around and came out "Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder." Which, y'know, makes a twisted kind of sense. I'll have to use that sometime.
1. If you're in a group of more than two people, either designate one person as the orderer or have each person make his complete order. Nothing is more confusing and frustrating than to have a family of people yelling about what they want--it's impossible to pick out the relevant information from among the useless babble.
2. As a sort of corollary to the above, make your whole order the first time you come up to the counter. If you make a complete order and then decide you want an applesauce, that's fine. If you order a cheeseburger, wait for it, then order a Coke, wait for that, then order a hot dog and wait for that, you're wasting everyone's time and pissing your cashier off.
3. Speak to the cashier. It's generally noisy inside restaurants, so if you're looking up at the menu and ordering, chances are the cashier can't hear you. Look at the menu all you want, and order as slowly as you need to, but don't talk to the menu.
4. If you've been waiting in line for some time and there are people behind you, you must make up your mind before you arrive at the counter. No one has time for you to debate the relative merits of lettuce and mayo during the lunch rush.
5. Do your utmost not to address the cashier by his/her name. Speaking as a cashier, I hate it. I already feel used and insignificant most of the time--the fact that the customer knows my name while I know nothing about him (except maybe if he's British) places me on an even lower level. It doesn't make me feel any better if you say, "Thank you, Carmen"--a simple "Thanks" is more than enough. Obviously, if I have my back turned and you just remembered that your kid hates Sprite and you want a lemonade instead, fine. Name me away. But otherwise, please don't.
6. Don't assume things about the cashiers. At least four or five times a day, Spanish-speaking families come in, take one look at the front line, and make a beeline for my register, chattering at me in Spanish just because my name is Carmen. Each time I have to tell them that while I understand enough to take most of their orders, I don't speak Spanish. And though I can't tell them this, of course, I find it highly offensive that they don't even ask.
7. Let the cashier do his/her own job. Don't tell me what your change should be or which of the hundred identical burgers I should give you or how many twists I should put on your soft-serve cone. Nothing is guaranteed to piss me off more quickly.
8. Finally, be pleasant. If you come up and smile at me, ask me how I am, tell me you're glad to finally be in the only place in the zoo that takes credit cards, ask me whether I like the chicken or the fish sandwich better, I'm going to give you great service. If you come up and respond to my "Hello; how may I help you?" with "Gimme ______," I'm going to give you pretty good service. When there are two hundred people waiting in line, the difference between great and pretty good becomes immense. I will bend over backwards to help a pleasant customer, even going so far as to request special orders from the kitchen, but if you're mean to me, I'll probably just tell you we're out; order something else.
I'm sure there are more, but those are my points for now.
Oh, and I just wrote "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" while talking to the guy who found 160 proof absinthe in Italy. Somehow, it all got jumbled around and came out "Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder." Which, y'know, makes a twisted kind of sense. I'll have to use that sometime.
