LiveJournal Tags: Tim Hortons
Ever go into an eating establishment (Tim fucking Hortons) with a gift card not knowing how much money is on said card, but a person must assume there’s SOME. This card, after all, gifted, making you believe the gifter might have set some funds for the giftee. There is in fact, none, so after splurging with your order you’re left to pay for the full amount from your own wallet. This would make for a hilarious joke, if you were the kind of asshole who played those sorts of jokes. Furthermore, when ordering your Turkey Bacon Club sandwich, the cashier immediately decides this means you want a B.L.T.. So you open your sandwich later and discover that there is no turkey, just bacon, lettuce and tomatoes, and you hate tomatoes. You would have requested, “No tomatoes please,” but the bitch got your order wrong anyway, so what fucking good would it have done.
Many times, I have been asked why I will order an item with tomatoes if I’m not going to eat them. Why? Because if I order, “No tomatoes,” I will still be given tomatoes. Then I’m expected to throw a fucking hysterical fit and charge the cashier like a wild animal, my sandwich held open like a Satanic Bible filled with terrible lies and demand why the fuck there’s tomatoes in my no-tomato sandwich. The answer, of course, is never satisfying. I see these people at the till. They’re the ones who decide to cut in when I’m placing my order, saying shit like, “I asked for no lettuce!” The implication is that they should re-make the sandwich without lettuce, as opposed to removing said lettuce: a task that does not require assistance from the restaurant staff. You could, alternatively, simply remove the offending food item yourself with your own hands, as your hands are going to be touching the sandwich anyway. And, if you’re going to do that, you might as well ignore asking for no tomatoes altogether. It saves everyone from a potentially deadly conflict.
But I had asked for an entirely different sandwich than what I was given. I ended up paying $6.50 for fucking bacon and lettuce in a bun. I’m already in the car driving away, so I don’t fucking feel like going back and complaining like some douche just so they can hem and haw and still get my fucking order wrong a second time. I don’t know why this happens so often at places I go. I suppose it’s some mix of stupidity and being hard-of hearing. Maybe they could hear better if they TOOK THE FUCKING HEADSET OFF. Why the fuck do they need these things? They’re in a kitchen that’s about fifty square feet. The person they’re talking to is right-the-fuck next to them, but they decided to make things “more efficient” they’re going to use these fucking headsets so they can only hear out of one fucking ear at a time. How is this fucking progress when I’m placing a simple-as-shit order and they can’t fucking hear me because they have a speaker crackling in their fucking ear?
It happened twice the last two times I went to Tim Hortons. The other time I was in the drive-thru ordering a dozen donuts and a coffee. By the time I get to the check-out, all they have me down for is the coffee. What the fuck did they think I was saying before I got to the word, “Coffee?” Was it, “Blah blah blah blah blah blah coffee?”
Plus getting in and out of Tim Hortons is a deathtrap. There’s always six cars minimum blocking the entrance. If you parked your car in front of the place when there was a rare, rare break in traffic, you’re never getting the fuck out. You have to fucking park across the lot at the Burger King. That’s the rule. If you go inside to take a look at what donuts you want or whatever, it’s usually backed up out the door. So you have to create your own line, because they haven’t figured out how to rope it off like a bank teller. So you always get some fucking moron coming in behind you and asking you if this is the end of the line, and some fucker who thinks he’s in front of you when he’s not.
All I want is a fucking coffee, a sandwich, and donuts. Why is it such an ordeal? Why? Why can’t you be a Krispy Kreme?
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