RULE #1: It doesn't matter what you order, it's still unhealthy.
Read it and weep. I'm sick of people ordering wraps instead of the sandwich. You're still eating the better part of 700 calories, and it gets worse when I persuade your weak minds with the tempting deal of a combo. I don't know what kind of logic you people are using, but just because you're eating something that you perceive to be healthier, you decide to order fries or mozzarella sticks or whatever with it. You might as well ordered a sandwich with all the trimmings and a giant-mega cup full of Ranch dressing to drink. Dieting is futile at a fast food joint, and the other staff and I laugh at your fruitless attempts as we drag you lower and lower in the health totem pole.
RULE #2: Restrain your fucking kids.
If you don't shut your kid the hell up, I will. I'm sick of your little yard-apes running around the drink machines and pretending to fight with the cardboard cutouts. Then they look to you for approval and they get it in the fact that you're lost in our giant smorgasboard of sewage, which continues in a vicious cycle. Your kids are there to become fat, listless, and lethargic like you. Tell them to find a seat and if they make one sound you'll wring their necks. I might be tempted to give you an unofficial discount for this.
RULE #3: Stop paying in large denominations.
Unless you're actually ordering 100 dollars' worth of shitty food, don't pay with a 100 dollar bill. More often than not we're tempted to give you an intimate tour of the fryer and test the hypothesis that grease crackles when it cooks human skin. Make the payment relative. There's nothing I hate more than someone ordering a two dollar drink and paying my faceless corporation with a 20 dollar bill.
RULE #4: We hate you.
Despite the fact that we practically shout "WELCOME TO [FAST FOOD FRANCHISE]!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" at the top of our lungs, we actually wish you'd turn around and leave. We would rather stand and socialize than take your order for a quarter-pounder triple whopper with a Jamocha shake and chili-cheese fries. We're getting paid six dollars and fifty cents an hour, which is only marginally higher than your fucking welfare checks.
We don't get paid enough for this shit. Go away.
Worst Regards,
Ubiquitous Teen Working Fast Food
Technorati Tags:






7 Comments
Wanna comment? Signup!
EpicQuaker
oceans12
anneliese
fatback
EpicQuaker
oceans12
oceans12
Wanna comment? Signup!