Take This Job and Shove It

Mind Two:
So you know how everyone has embarrassing moments? Well, I am included, sadly enough, in this category. Also, some of my moments have happened at work. Actually, a lot of them. So, story time...

As I have mentioned a million times before, I work at a coffee shop. And at this coffee shop, we have a drive through so people who are in a hurry can get their coffee faster. (Side note: This does not actually make getting coffee faster. It still takes the same amount of time to make the coffee. Just to clear that up.) I am working and I hear someone pull up in the drive-through. I walk up, being all smiley and cute so hopefully they will tip me, and I go to open to window. When you are working, you have to wash your hands a lot. I do, at least. Maybe I just have really dirty hands. Whatever. Anyways, I had just put lotion on because of my hand washing problem. And I go to pull the sliding window open. And my hand slips off. And WHAM! My awesome, cute, smiling face, turned to a really mortified, sad looking face because my face got slammed into a window. So I open the window, hoping the lady didn't see it and trying really hard not to cry because my face hurts, and the lady is laughing. Like, really laughing. So apparently she saw the whole thing. So I took her order and tries to cooly play off the window-face thing. But she did tip me more because she probably felt bad for me. The downside-I had to clean the window because I left a big-ass face smear on it. Gross. If there is a God, he will never let that woman come through when I am working again. Because I don't think I could handle it.
(mind one leaping in here. Troll did that exact window trick on the sliding glass door at my house. Testament to how lazy my family is. It's been there for like, months.)

Mind one. (This might get a little racist, but not in a mean way, there just really isn't any other way to tell the story.)

I too, can now share in these horror stories, because I started working at DAIRY QUEEN!!!! WHEEEE!!!! For some reason, just because I have a dairy queen shirt on, I am suddenly lowered to a sub human level. People, Dairy Queen may not be a high end restaurant, and may in fact be a fast food joint, but the workers, they still are people. So enough with this attitude. I make your precious little blizzards, so be nice. However, the other day my temper got hardcore tested. I was standing behind the register, and so far, it had been a good day, I'd even been complimented on my people skills, so I was feeling good. Then this red mini-van pulls up. Here's a little tip for my dear readers. Mini-vans= Buttloads of small children. So naturally, I died a little inside seeing this pull up. Actually a lot. Then steps out the single largest black man I've ever seen in my life. (And I've seen the Blind Side.) He had to duck a little to come through the door, and was about 6'5" in every direction. He was wearing basketball shorts, Nike shoes the size of small canoes and a faded out grey tank top. And a little tiny bluetooth in the right ear. (I realize this is a very detailed description, but this memory is burned into my brain.) He comes...well...sauntering up the counter and the conversation goes like this.
Mind one: "Hello sir, how are you today?"
Customer one: "Welluh, I be all'ight lil laduh, an' hows you? (I'm doing my best to type the way he speaks)
M1:".......I'm good?" (I really wasn't sure what he just said, and figured that was what he asked.)
M1: "What can I get you today sir?"
C1: "I wanna cuple of them theres ice creum tweats you go' righ up here in the back."
Right now all I can think of is that cheezy old movie airplane, when the black guy is freaking out and the attendant asks if anyone speaks jive. I do not speak jive, and literally got reduced to sign language in the end.

Turns out he wanted three blizzards, and a couple cheeseburgers. Right as he finished ordering his kid comes dancing in. Literally, dancing. Also, barefoot. Boobs, (YES BOOBS APPEARS AGAIN) comes up behind me, and kicks the kid out. We cant have barefoot hooligans running around. Silly me, thinking he would just sit in the car. Oh no. No no no. He goes and puts shoes on and comes back in. Lets run through this conversation.
Kid:"Yall bettur hurreh uhp on mah food righ now, and get mah ice cream out heruh now!!"
Boobs:"We are going as fast as we can, and we'll have this out for you right away."
Mind One: *mutter grumble, stand in the corner and blend blizzards.* (Boobs is much nicer than me, I wanted to blend his bossy little face, but she was kind and put up with him.)
I was happy to see this family leave, their little kid was a brat, I couldn't understand the father, and they didn't tip, at all. The tip cup is there for a reason folks, help a girl out. We make minimum wage at good ol DQ. Tips are niceeee.

Also, I have to wake up early on the weekends for this job. Show the workers alittle respect. Or we very well may tell you to take your blizzard and shove it. (Probably not, boss frowns on this sort of thing. But we will think it. And we may be telepathic. So. Watch yourself.)