Fast food skills

“You could always work at McDonalds.”I admit, I have directed this EXACT statement to my kids. Usually, it is in response to a lack of effort, or unfinished homework, or general laziness on their part. And it doesn’t have to be McDonalds, either. All fast food places work.My feelings on this matter have been thus: fast food work is easy and doesn’t require training or skill, so ANYONE can do it.I’m not sure I think that anymore. I believe the food service industry is more challenging than I once thought.I have two stories.About a month ago, my daughter and I were headed to San Antonio. Our time was short, so I was looking for a Chic-Fil-A. Something good and fast. We passed sign after sign. Nothing.Finally, the pressure of arriving at our destination on time led me to exit where a Taco Bueno was advertised. I did not want Taco Bueno. I wanted Chic-Fil-A! Off the freeway, I turned right.There was no Taco Bueno, at least not that I could see in my hurried state. We passed a Pizza Hut (too slow), a Subway (ugh), and Popeyes.We chose Popeyes.Samantha and I walked into the building. There was ONE other couple in there. It was not crowded. We tried to order. Tried is the best way to describe what happened.I wanted two 3 piece chicken baskets. The big board in the front listed this order as a number 5. So I ordered two #5s. The man behind the counter asked me which sides would we like? I said beans and rice for one, fries for the other. He asked me FOUR more times about the sides. Beans and rice...fries. I even started saying 1-beans...2-fries. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting confused by the use of a conjunction.He rang us up and the cost was higher than I had anticipated. He had actually charged me for two FIVE piece chicken baskets. I pointed out his mistake, and told him we wanted the three piece basket, #5.“You said you wanted two 5s!”NUMBER fives, dude. I pointed to the huge menu behind him. NUMBER five.I paid and we sat down to wait for our food. After about five minutes, the same man walked back to our table, opened one box and asked, “is this your food?” WHAT? Who does that? It was not our food. Not even close. At this point, the two other people had gotten their food and left. We were the only ones in there!No, I told him, it was not our food, and then repeated our order. I followed him to the front and waited. Five more minutes passed. We had our food (finally!) and we went on our way. (The food was tasty, by the way).The next story happened more recently. My little girls had a dance competition and I ordered some food online from Corner Bakery.I ordered two kids meals. Both sandwiches came with a drink, a bag of chips, and a cookie. I ordered chocolate chip cookies for both meals.I arrived at the restaurant and stood in the line for online orders. The girl in the front handed me a bag with our food...I peeked inside just to make sure I had everything.Um...I didn’t.I had two sandwiches, one bag of chips, no drinks and no cookies. I double checked the receipt stapled to the bag. Yep, the order was printed out perfectly.I went back to the front and told the girl what we were missing. She brought back one bag of chips. I stood, waiting for the rest of the forgotten order. She looked at me. I looked at her. This was going nowhere fast.Uh, can I get the milk and lemonade? She poured the milk and set it down in front of me. More looking and more awkward waiting. The lemonade? Without saying a word, she set the cup down. I guess I fill it myself. I took the cup and asked, once more, what about the cookies?“There is only one chocolate chip left. Is that ok?”For the love! I actually ordered the food we WANTED...but it’s fine to give me whatever you’d like me to have. 😳😂. I took one chocolate chip and one sugar cookie. Having successfully pried the food I ordered (somewhat) from her reluctant hands, I left.Whoa. I think I underestimated how difficult food service is. To every fast food worker who is able to take my order and give me the correct food...I thank you. Not everyone can do your job. I know that now.P.S. After we had our Popeyes chicken and were about to get on the freeway, we passed a Chic-Fil-A. I laughed. Well, laugh-cried.