From Fast Food Survivor:
So I used to work at a popular drive-in that shares the name of a blue Sega hedgehog.
The regular (or shall I say, irregular) custys at this place should have been in psych wards.
The first one I met was known as the Cherry Coke Lady.
Every day - yes, EVERY day - she would show up at the drive thru for her cherry coke.
When I had the pleasure of meeting her, I was taking down orders for the first time.
I stated our usual greeting and asked what she wanted.
"Give me my usual."
Yeah, as if I can see who you are or even remember if we've met before.
Fortunately, my manager came over and made her order for me, whilst explaining this custys' "usual."
She must always have an extra large (44 oz) coke, with extra cherry. And a DISCOUNT, just for bitching at us every day.
However, the worst is yet to come.
We keep a bucket of ice up front by our drink fountain for easy access, but she wanted the fresh ice. From the back. How the HELL she could tell the difference is beyond me. If the ice did not come from the "fresher" selection in the back, she would go ballistic. I think she has secret video cameras in that restaurant.
Next is the Oreo Shake Guy.
He would come in occasionally, order an Oreo shake, and while we attempted to mix it perfectly, and have the exact size Oreo bits, and his perfect blend of ice cream and soft serve, he would take a sip, yell at us about how he owns ten of these restaurants (not ours, though, which makes you wonder why he wasn't focusing on them) and that we always do everything wrong.
My managers, eager to please, would force us to make him another immediately, free of charge. And this is only the beginning of the craziness.
Anyway, I'm very glad not to be working there any longer, but wish me luck as I begin a new job at a bookstore soon.
--Fast Food Hell Survivor