Feeling a bit hungry, I popped out of the office for some Chick-Fil-A
, as I do at least a couple of times a week for a chicken strip salad. As soon as I walked in, I knew I was in trouble...the only register was manned by a blonde (this is important) who'd once greeted my by saying "Welcome to Chickaflay", which is so sad. You really should know the name of the place you work. "I'll have the Chick-n-Strips Salad with Thousand Island dressing please", I said. Blank stare from the blonde. I repeat myself. "I don't think we have a Chick-n-Strips Salad", she replied, "Let me go check." WTF? It's on the menu. I order it every time (almost) that I come here. Are you that stupid? Really? The manager finally came out with her and--with a hint of exasperation--showed her where it was on both the menu and the POS system. Wow. I'm certain that's not the first time someone has ordered that from you. In fact, I know that I have before. What's wrong with you? How do you remember to even come to work every day? Or breathe, for that matter?