by POPSIE 1956

A disclaimer before I start; if you are an employee at McDonald’s and/or CVS, do not take the following personally…

Unless you happen to be one of the subjects of my discussion.

I don’t mean to do so, but this may turn out to be one of those “When I was their age” things, if it is, so be it.

My generation had..uh..has..our own share of dumb asses…

but not as many as today, in my opinion.

I’m not sure where it all went wrong, and I’m afraid it’s only gonna get worse as we go along.

Case in point just a few days ago.

I was getting some quality time with two of my grandsons, Chris and Zach.

Not a big thing, a quick trip to Game Stop and some lunch.

I pick up the boys and Chris brings out a disposable camera I gave him to bring to Summer Camp (see previous posting).

He wanted to get it developed, so we stop at the CVS that I give a lot of my business to.

Chris stays in the car, so Zach and I go in, and are greeted by “Betty Lou” (not her real name).

“Welcome to CVS, may I help you?”

“Yes, I need to get this developed.”

(In fact, the camera was purchased at this very store)

“I’m sorry, we don’t do this.”

Silence….not a pause for her to tell me more…just…silence.

“OK, who does?”

“Um..I don’t know, maybe (a store WAY out of my way).”

“OK, what about (the store less than two minutes away)?”

“Um..I don’t know..”

Again, silence…

“Do you think you can check?”

Again, silence…

“Oh, would you like me to call there?”

Patience Mike, patience..

“Yes, please.”

After a painful moment or two asking a few co workers where the number of this other store was (right next to the register), she calls, and wonder of wonders, yes they do.

After properly thanking her for being useful…on to the next CVS we go.

Again, Chris stays in the car, playing games on my phone, he’s easily amused.

Zach and I walk in and go to the Photo Shop section…..right next to the register up front.

Remember that fact, it will be important in a moment.

At the register is another piece of work, chatting it up with a customer..and with a steadily growing line of customers behind her…about how she’s had nothing but dry bread to eat all day since she’s so hungover…

On a scale of 1-10, my tolerance level is at 11 and boiling over..quickly.

As Missy Sue (not her real name) is talking about the wild night she had with Ms Favorite Customer, she sees Zach and me..less than 10 feet away…

See, I told you to remember…

She waves at me, as if to say “I’ll be right over sir.”

Five minutes in, she now starts to talk with Ms Favorite Customer about hair…

for another five minutes…

the line of waiting customers continues to grow..

as does my anger…

The conversation still rambles on, and one can only keep a six year old quiet for so long. Zach was starting to get restless, I had to do something.

For those who don’t really know me, I have a tendency to use rather rough language.

Especially when provoked…..

like right about now..

I really try and be polite and mature…

but one has to be polite and mature for that to happen back to them.

This was not one of those times.

I tell Zach “Sit right here for one minute, I’ll tell the girl we’re in a hurry, Popsie will be right back, OK Zach?”

“Sure Popsie.”

I walk over to Missy Sue and Ms. Favorite Customer and, knowing Zach can’t hear me, say to Missy Sue, “Excuse me, no one cares about your f*c*ing hair or your f*c*ing hangover, I need f*c*ing service now!”

Missy Sue looks at me and says “Sir, you’re being rude, I never saw you over there!”

I come back with “And you’re a f*c*ing liar, you looked right at me and waved, are you still drunk, or did you think I was a f*c*ing piece of bread?”

Missy Sue wraps up her conversation with Ms. Favorite Customer and comes over to take care of me.

As I walk back to Zach, the now longer line (about 10-12 customers at this point) gives me a Standing O.

From CVS we go across the street to McDonald’s….I was in the PERFECT mood to do so.

We get there and stand in line, that’s when I noticed behind the counter there appears to be nearly every person currently employed by McDonald’s world wide.

Yet there’s three lines of people, 4-5 people deep each, and they are all being directed to just ONE register.

I assume it’s difficult taking an order when your head is up your ass.

After a good ten minutes in line (and now with two restless, and very hungry children), Bobby Billy (not his real name) gets around to take my order.

As Chris and Zach give their order correctly, with each order, Bobby Billy keeps looking at me to approve the order.

Since I’m on a roll, I have to ask Bobby Billy, “Is there a reason you just can’t take their order properly?”

“Yes sir, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of what they ordered.”

“Bobby Billy, they are speaking English, I’m speaking English, and you’re speaking English, assuming you actually understand English, we are all speaking the same language, so unless one of us starts using our hands to talk, please process the order now!”

Not the exact words I wanted to use, but I was with the boys, and Popsie won’t lay F Bombs in front of the boys…

I leave that to their parents…

Bobby Billy eventually completes the order and takes my money, I send the boys to the play area and wait for the food.

As I look at the receipt, I see there’s stuff on it we didn’t order, I see the manager, Real Big Sh*t (not his real name) and point it out.

R.B.S. fixes the order and a moment later, my tray with food arrives.

I take the tray to our table, and now the food we DID order, and is ON the receipt, isn’t there.

BACK to the counter and another conversation with R.B.S., the order is FINALLY fixed.

We make our way to Game Stop, and overall have a great day.

I get home, and as I usually do when I experience bad customer service, I track down the National Reps for both CVS and McDonald’s, and e-mail both with a detailed explanation¬† of what happened.

Nothing yet as of this writing, but I’m confident I’ll be getting a coupon for a year’s worth of free Happy Meals…

And another coupon for a year’s worth of Pepto Bismol as well…

Seems somewhat fitting.