Welcome to Taco Bell;
May I Have Your Order, Cocksucker?

    Okay, I’ll admit it;  I work at Taco Bell.  OH, WHOAH, HEY NOW!  Stop laughing, okay?  Jesus Christ.  Don’t you think I’m humiliated enough as it is?  Sheesh.  It’s not even my fault, really.  I didn’t even think they were hiring, and had only filled out the job application to shut my mom’s yap about me getting a job.  The poor desperate bastards hired me almost on the spot when I turned in the app.

     “So, you’ll call me if--”  I began.

     “Can you start Sunday?”  The manager pleaded, shoving a uniform into my arms.

     “Er...I guess...”

     So I was stuck.  Don’t make the same mistake.  Lemme tell ya, working in fast food is like having your pride and dignity surgically extracted through your rectum without the benefits of anesthetic.  I go in, wearing my ugly, ugly uniform, displaying my happy jalepeno nametag, and sign over seven or eight hours of my life to a company that wants to erase my individuality and free will.  Taking my post at the front register, I begin to allow my sense of self to drain away.  I exist for the Customer!  The Customer is All!  I will even suspend important bodily functions, such as the release of urine from my insignificant bladder for the sake of the Customer!  And I will do it happily, with a bright ol’ smile on my face for the Customer!

     Fuck the Customer!

     I now believe that Taco Bell is a magnet for all the white trash pieces of shit that exists on the planet.  It’s not just the white trash.  No, we get all sorts of colors of trash; even mid-eastern trash.  They never want beef on their tacos.  I swear, these people are total morons.  Before I was hired, I knew that a large portion of the world’s population consisted of somewhat-less-than-bright individuals, but Jesus!  It’s as if every one of these people is on some sort of pilgrimage to my Taco Bell.  Fast food is a major staple of our economy, and a deeply rooted part of our culture.  You’d think people would know how to deal with fast food restaurants.  But no.  We might as well not even have a menu above the counter, because the Customers are blind to it.  They quite literally cannot perceive it.  God forbid they look for themselves if they want to know the price of a taco.  You’d think they would get it after awhile.  I have people come in all the time ordering things Taco Bell has never had.  Who’s heard of Taco Bell having tacoburgers?  They don’t exist here!  They never did!  Who says to them “I had the greatest tacoburger at Taco Bell yesterday”?  Have we ever advertised it?   Is it even on the menu?  Oh wait, that’s right;  It wouldn’t matter anyway, because the menu exists outside of the Customers’ perceived universe.  Silly me, what was I thinking?

     The other main thing about customers is that they never learn.  One major point is the Gordita.  These things are just insanely complicated.  Not even a rocket scientist could understand these.  I mean, who can expect a Customer to decide between three styles and three meats at the same time?  The most we can expect is that they’ll tell the cashier a style OR a meat choice.  That’s the smarter minority.  Most just order “A Gordita, please.”  It isn’t unreasonable for them to assume we know exactly what they want. Maybe the big sign with all three styles on it and a list of possible meats isn’t clear enough to them. So it’s left up to us to help them along:

     “I would like a Santa Fe Gordita.”

     “Okay, sir; would you like chicken, beef, or steak on that?” The question is asked through a  facade of forced cheerfulness.

     --After a second or two of tortured thought--”Uh, Beef, I guess.”

     It works the other way ‘round, too:

     “I’d like a chicken Gordita.”

     “Okay, that comes in three styles.  Santa Fe, Baja, and Supreme.”

     “???Well, I don’t know.  Regular?”

     At this point, I become confused.  We do not have “regular” Gorditas.  Or am I wrong?  Did we just get these Regular Gorditas in?  Is it a new special Management didn’t tell me about?  I’m pretty sure this is not the case, so I assume the Customer (who always knows exactly what he’s talking about, even if it is complete and utter nonsense, beyond even the incomprehensibility of Lewis Carrol’s Jabberwokky) has had a long day, or perhaps suffered a concussion or something, and might have uttered a wrong word.  So I take a wild stab in the dark:

     “And regular would be... what?  You want a Supreme?”

     “I dunno.  Yeah, I guess.”

     It would all be funny if it wasn’t so fucking irritating.  You Customers are all a bunch of fucking morons.  Maybe I could forgive you for screwing up the Gordita thing once in an order, but when you continue to do the same thing time after time  in the same order after I have just finished  explaining it to you, you are taking your worthless little lives in your hands.  Or you would be if your hands weren’t already full of your cocks, you worthless shitholes.

     The most insane thing I’ve ever had to deal with starts off the same way as the first Gordita example:

     “I would like a Santa Fe Gordita.”

     “Okay, sir; would you like chicken, beef, or steak on that?” The question is asked through a  facade of forced cheerfulness.

     “No.”

     ....WHAT?  The first time it happened I was truly baffled.  Then it kept happening, getting less cute every time.  Am I to take this to mean that they do not want any meat on their Gordita?  I guess…But that really just defeats the purpose.  It would be a shell with cheese, lettuce, and any one of a selection of sauces.

     Maybe it would be funny if it was a  joke, but it isn’t.  These people are really that stupid!!!!!  If you have EVER done this to a Taco Bell employee, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you (very clearly so you can understand), that you are a FUCKING MORON!  What the hell are you thinking???  ARE you thinking?  How could any human being be that utterly daft?  Have you no grasp on the concept of answering a question? Am I being unclear?  I doubt it, considering most people interpret the question as it was meant, namely, as a list of choices.

    What, at this point, is there to distinguish you as a human being from an ape that has just wandered into the restaurant?  Should we be asking, “Would you like chicken, beef, steak, or LICE, freshly picked out of our ARMPITS???”

     I always wind up going into great detail as to what a Gordita is, and they have so far had the light go on.  Next time, I will ring up a Gordita minus the meat.  It’ll be their own goddamn fault.  They can suck on my meat if they have a problem with it.

     Customers are also pigs.  I have never seen such a bunch of slobs in my entire life.  People regularly enter the restaurant and spread filth all over the place.  I would really like to know what is so incredibly difficult about eating a taco that you wind up spreading little shreds of lettuce across an entire booth.  Is it accidental, or are you somehow compelled to do it purposely?  Is it some sort of religious thing?  Do you worship taco gods, or something, and are required to offer lettuce as an appeasement?

     And when was the last time you saw fast food employees acting as waiters?  Never once in my life have I encountered this.  Since we do not come out and hand you your food, or come by and ask if you’d like to order dessert, or interact with you in any way, shape, or form after you’ve seated yourself, why is it that you assume it is up to us to clear your tables?  Surely you see the majority of other customers taking their own trays of filth up to the trash cans and dumping them.  Why do you thing there are so many trash cans?  Why do you think those little recesses are there, sized perfectly for trays, with stack of trays in them?  Why, if it is up to the employees to clear your place for you, would the trays be piled up in the lobby, only to be collected en masse by an employee when he comes out to sweep up your filth and scrub your nastiness off the once-pristine tables?  It just doesn’t make any sense!  There is nothing to indicate that the employees of fast food restaurants are the ones who are supposed to clear your tables.  Restaurants such as these have been around since my parents were children!  You’d think that in about fifty years of mainstream fast food, you would be able to adhere to the customs and accepted modes of operation of these places.

     If you’re gonna stack your filth up on a table (or even worse, spread it around on the table and leave) and force the employees to waste time doing your work for you, you could be courteous enough to leave a fucking tip.  Cheapskate asshole sons of bitches.

     A lot of people, especially the triler park trash we get in (you know, the ones who think that Confederate flags, NASCAR, and professional wrestling are cooler than cool, drive $50 cars, etc) will declare in loud voices so everyone will know how witty and clever they are, “That’s what’cher gittin’ paid fer!”

     Dicks.

     No, you pathetic slime, it is not.  I’m getting paid to deal with your ineptitude while you muddle your way through ordering.  And if not that, then I’m being paid to put your food together so you can dismantle and disseminate it across the restaurant.  I’ll bet you all think you are being terribly slick exerting your dominance like that.  You’re very big and tough.  Now get your lard asses out of my restaurant and back to your trailer or ramshackle hovel and sit your aforementioned lard asses in your duct-taped chairs and pop a beer to rest on your slimy, grease smeared wife beater shirt (be thee male or female), and cheer over your low class “entertainment,” namely pro wrestling or watching cars drive in circles really fast.  What a bunch of losers.  You are the filth of humanity, and I want you all to die.
 So, in conclusion, I’d like to beg you to show a little respect for people who work in fast food joints.  We put up with more shit than you can imagine, and we’re only human.  I know it’s futile, though, because every last one of you is a shiteating asshole.
 
POST SCRIPT:

 I no longer work at Taco Bell.  I work at Waldenbooks now, where the Customers on the whole are not quite so stupid, but there is still a large percentage of them who probably can’t dress themselves without accidentally setting something on fire. But more on that later.  That’s another essay.