DQ

a little background info:

last saturday, Husband and i went out for what we thought was going to be a fancy dinner. and by "fancy" i mean, “does not come in a paper sack”
so we got all cleaned up and headed out the door to a place i heard had good burgers. and we assumed that this place was the kind where someone waits on us. well, it wasn’t ... AND we were WAY TOO cute for this place, but we ate anyway. and while we were eating, H says, “since this was a bust, you owe me fancy dessert”
ok. i can do that.
but then we decided that we would have “fancy dessert” the next day when we went to a better fancy place for dinner.

so we decided on Dairy Queen for ice cream. it went with the theme of a lame dinner.
we got to DQ and saw that the line was really long, so we decided to just go inside. well as soon as we got out, i realized i left my purse at the non-fancy burger establishment. back in the car, go get my purse. and as we get closer back to DQ i say, well maybe the line will be shorter this time.

yeah, it was longer.
so in we headed.

and this was where our night got surreal.

we approached the counter and there were about 5 employees wandering around. one was sweeping, one was going back and forth to the kitchen, and who knows what the others were really doing, all we knew was they were doing a damn fine job of NOT HELPING US.

(forgive me if it sounds like i am judgmental or mean…. i am STILL angry about the whole thing.)

one girl with WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY too much blue eyeliner and bad blonde hair told the girl who was sweeping, to help us. now sweeping girl had eyes that are SO far apart, that i think they were actually considered ears at this point. AND had on the thick glasses that made her eye/ears look about as big around as golfballs.

dig that one for a hot second.

so, Fish Girl looked at us, with disgust…. and S L O W L Y made her way over to the register.

Husband: “hi there, how are you tonight?”
FG: *grumble* “fine” *grumble*
and then she turned around and walked away to put her broom up and came back, reluctantly
Husband: “we’ll have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
FG: * heavy sigh* (and not even SLIGHTLY under her breath) “i don’t even want to do this” (as she looked around to find someone else to do her VERY tedious task of DOING HER JOB!!!)

H and i looked at each other as if to say, “oh HELL no, she did NOT just say that, did she?”
i think she called EyeLiner over to relieve her so she could get back to doing a shitty half-assed job of sweeping

H then told EL that we “would like to have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
she looked like she knew what she was doing, repeated the order back to us, and then stared at the register / thing where all you have to do is match the words you heard with the words/pictures on the touch pad and said, “hmmm… now where is that?”

OH, COME ON!!!

she pushed some buttons, told us our total, and took his card to swipe…. and then came back and handed him his receipt and handed him his dipped cone and then walked off.
and then finds the kid with the tongue problem and tells him to make our order, because she “is going on break”

you mean to tell me that you cannot wait one more minute to FINISH waiting on some customers?????????

she then walked back into the kitchen and we saw her flirting with the fucking cooks.
you mean to tell me that she cant make MY fucking ice cream because she has to go flirt with the COOKS?????

SOMEONE fucking shoot me.

she then came BACK out of the kitchen, with her belly all hanging over her pants and asked the “manager” to ring her up for cheese fries.
H said, quietly, and snidely to me, “ummm, sweetie, I really don’t think you NEED them, do you?”

meanwhile, he was eating his dipped cone. we were STILL waiting for MY ice cream and the woman behind us was getting her order of 2 dipped cones. simple enough, right?

these were the saddest dipped cones in the history of dipped cones. one was about 6 inches tall and really skinny and pointy. it was a feat in gravity. the other one was about 3 inches high, pouring over the sides and dripping chocolate. i guess they had tested gravity too much with the first one and didn't want to take anymore chances.
DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT hand someone something that is supposed to be identical…. and ISNT.
have you no pride???

H looked at me with disbelief, and said, “did you see that?” and we just stared and could only say, “WOW!”

REALLY? REALLY? you REALLY handed those to a customer and expected them to be ok with that??

well, the woman took them. we wouldn’t have. but at this point, i was willing to take anything, because i was STILL waiting for my ice cream.
and we watched FG attempt to sweep. we watched EL try to run game. we watched Tongue Boy try to figure out how to make my order as we watched him do nothing else, but wipe up the counter. oh, and hang his tongue out of his mouth.

at this point, the cooks had gotten involved in the amazement that it’s taking this long to get ICE CREAM. one of them even said to the other, “look, that guy's almost finished with HIS ice cream” as even THEY stared in bewilderment at the ineptitude flowing forth from the "front of the house"

FINALLY, i had enough. i was RAGINGLY hormonal…. and the only thing i wanted was some fucking ice cream. well the ice cream was just the transportation for the chocolate that was hopefully going to bring me ONE minute of satisfaction against the tides of estrogen.

we went BACK up to the counter…. and i asked "what’s taking so long?"
someone said "they are trying to figure out HOW to make it."

WHAT?
did you just say HOW?

so i said, “you know what, i’ll just take a brownie batter blizzard, if they DON’T know how to make the thing i ordered”. that’s when either TB or the manager said, “we are out of brownie bits”

i said, “then WHY DIDN’T ANYONE SAY SOMETHING???????? we have been standing here waiting for nearly 10 minutes, my husband is almost FINISHED with HIS ice cream.....(deep breath)... you know what, i’ll just take my money back, and we will be on our way.”

manager girl says, “well i can still try to make it for you but without the brownie in it”

at this point, i was no longer responsible for what came out of my mouth. i looked her straight in her eyes and said,

“THEN YOU ARENT EXACTLY MAKING ME WHAT I ORDERED, THEN ARE YOU??????”

husband gently took my arm and sweetly said in a don't-make-any-sudden-moves-and-you-might-still-keep-your-kneecaps kind of way, “baby, why don’t you go to the car”

I wasn’t going anywhere!

the “manager” gave us back our money. And then, DID NOT apologize.

So as we walked out the door, i threw back, “SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR INCONVENIENCE!!!” and we left.

and we were just shocked. it would have been fine if it had JUST been one or two of the things that happened…. but the fact that it was SUCH a crazy chain of events.

so, as we drove to Sonic, we replayed it. and STILL could not believe it.

needless to say, i will be writing a letter to the manager of that store, and OH YEAH I will be sending a copy of it to the Corporate Office as well.

i hope SOMETHING comes good comes out of this; i would hate to impose a DAIRY QUEEN ban too.

even husband said, “don’t tell me we have to boycott DQ, like Domino’s now, too.”

we shall see, my love…. we shall see.