With the massive influx of wild n' crazy stories relating to the fast food industry, I felt it was high time that somebody make a node for it all. If you've got a story, write it here! If you've already got a story (or 14, if you're RimRod) already noded, hardlink them. It's fun!

My first story requires a little background and a short geography lesson regarding the Burger King in Springfield, IL that I was working at during the summer of 1996. My drive-thru window faced North, towards a road travelling east-west, and a bank, which is across the street. The bank's parking lot opens up onto the east-west road, and there's a 9-foot-deep drainage ditch between the BK property and the road. The ditch is 20-30 feet across, and it's separated from the road by a 6-inch curb and a heavy wooden guardrail.

I was working the drive thru, taking and passing out orders like usual, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a big piece of metallic junk fly through the air and land in the ditch. Believe it or not, this doesn't always happen, so I was kind of interested to see what was going on. I leaned out the window to get a better look, and much to my amazement there was a car facing South inside the ditch! Apparently, some old lady had mistaken her accelerator for the brakes when she was pulling out of the bank across the street. She smashed through the guardrail and jumped her car, Dukes of Hazzard-style, over the ditch, nosediving into the other side and flopping back down into the water.

I immediately yelled to the manager to call 911 as I ran to the door to the second drive thru lane. I yanked open the door and ran to the ditch, throwing my hat to the side. I scrambled down into the ditch so see if the lady inside was okay. She looked like she had hit her head on the steering wheel pretty hard. It was all bent out of shape, and there was blood streaming out of her nose onto her blouse. I opened the door to give her some fresh air, but I knew it would be a bad idea to try and move her, so I interrogated her about her injuries. She was kind of delirious from the impact, but she managed to tell me that her nose and her chest hurt. At this point, one of her back tires started to deflate and the car started to slip back deeper into the 4 feet of water in the ditch.

I looked back at the store, to see why nobody else was out there giving me moral support, and I saw a couple workers and managers clustered around the side door, but nobody came out to help! I yelled to see if anybody had had the presence of mind to actually call 911, and they said yes, they had. Then, instead of asking if they could do anything or even coming out to make sure everything was alright, they went back to filling fast food orders!

After the emergency personnel arrived on the scene, I was able to go back inside. It seemed that all my managers could think about was how screwed they were because the ambulance and fire trucks were blocking up the drive thru! Nobody even asked me how the old lady was!

The moral of the story? Hell, I don't know. Fast food managers aren't very smart and they tend to have one-track minds. Also, lots of people apparently don't react well to strange situations, especially Burger King employees. Imagine that.

Other fast-food related nodes:

This is a true story.

A friend and I got hungry late one night, so we drove to a nearby Taco Bell for something resembling food. We ordered a bunch of stuff, and the total came to $6.66.

Well. Seeing as it was late at night and the guy taking our order through the intercom was bored, he got onto the topic of Hell. I forget what he said, except that the only thing available to drink there was "hot Heineken." My friend starting joking with him, telling him that she had Satan in the car. He didn't believe that, and asked us to drive up and get the food.

Did I mention that I am rather a large person, and at the time I had long hair and a beard? I put on my best Satanic look as we came up to the service window. The guy got one look at me and I saw genuine fear come across his face just before he fell to the floor.

Eventually he recovered and called his co-workers over to look at "Satan in the drive-through." We drove away feeling good about having brought some amusement to some bored fast-foodies.

I worked at a Wendy’s for two years when I was in high school. There were a few weird incidents that I can remember.

  • I worked the drive-thru window most of the time. I remember these two customers who rolled down their window to give me their money, and a thick cloud of pot smoke rolled at me, making me cough. I handed them their change, and they offered me a hit from their joint. I said no thanks, and gave them their food. The area inside and outside by my register smelled like pot for the next 10 minutes or so.
  • I was helping close the store one night, and I was cleaning the front of the restaurant where the tables and chairs were. I walked into the back of the restaurant to get a mop, and I heard a pop behind me. I turned around, and one entire window had cracked into a million plexiglass pieces and was starting to fall apart. We don’t know if someone shot it with a BB gun or if it just popped for no reason.
  • One of the guys I worked with for 2 weeks quit for no reason, then was arrested for murder a week after that.
  • One of the guys I worked with now and then on weekends had dropped out from my high school. He came into work one day with big scratches on his arms, so I asked how he got them. He told me that his cat did it. So, I asked him what kind of cat he had since I like cats, and he started telling me about how pretty the cat was. One of my co-workers interrupted us, and we got to work. Later, my co-worker told me that cat-boy was into cats in a sexual way, or so she had heard, and that’s why he had scratches all the time. I’m still not sure if I believe that or not. He got one of the other Wendy’s workers pregnant somehow, and he quit to find another job.
  • Every Saturday when I was working drive-thru, the same police officer came through and ordered iced tea. He liked me for some reason, and always asked me how I was doing. When I told him it was my last day of work before I left for college, he insisted on coming into the restaurant and buying me lunch. My manager couldn’t say no, even though we were a little busy, since he was a cop. It was kind of weird but neat all at once.

When I went to OSU, I worked at a Subway for about a year.

This Subway was close to “frat row”, so there were always drunk frat boys coming in on Saturday night when I worked. One drunk wrote a check for his sandwich about 10 minutes before closing, then sat down to eat his sandwich. I asked for his ID for his check, so I knew he was 19 and not 21. When I had to lock the store up 10 minutes later, I very politely asked him and his buddies to leave. He said no. I asked again very nicely, stating it was store policy. He gave me a boozy stare and started getting belligerent.

I’d had enough. This drunken idiot was making a huge mess all over the tables and floor I’d already cleaned. He wouldn’t leave. So, I got right in his face and said very slowly and calmly,

“You wrote a check for that sandwich. I saw your ID. I know you’re 19, and I know you’re drunk. If you do not get off your ass right now and leave, I will call the police and you will be issued a ticket for MIP and public drunkenness. So, once again, its closing time and I need you to leave.”

He and his friends got up and left without another word.

A story I remember was from my AP European History teacher. We often finished his lectures very quickly so he usually had time to tell us some story or funny joke to the class.

One story he told us was when he was a teenager working at McDonald's. His job was to flip burgers. Not a really hard job but something to earn money.

One day while he was working there, his nose began to bleed pretty badly. It was rushing out of his nose so fast that some blood fell onto the hamburgers he was grilling. He rushed to the bathroom to stop the nose bleed and clean himself up. In his haste he forgot to tell anyone about the burgers...

When he came back, the burgers were gone. He asked one of his co-workers what happened to the burgers that he was grilling.

His co-worker said, "Oh I just served them, why?"

This is why he never eats at McDonald's anymore :P

During my junior year in high school, I worked in a Checkers joint. Sorry I can't call them restaurants, for those who have never been to one, they have no place to sit at, it is just walk up or drive-thru. Anyway...

One day I came back from my break to find everyone clustered in one area except for; the manager, who was standing by the drive-thru window talking to someone, and one guy who was on the phone. So I asked one of my co-workers what was going on.

"We are being held up," she said.
(Note: This windows was on the other side of the building from the entry. So I never noticed anything strange before I entered.)

No one knew why the manager hadn't given them money yet, but we just stood there all scared to death. The guy finished on the phone (calling the police) and came to stand with us. Finally our manager simply closed the window and the car sped off into the night. None of us knew what had gone on, no money had changed hands and yet the people in the car had simply left.

One of my co-workers had the presence of mind to ask the manager just what had happened.

All the manager said was, "They had a knife".

Ahh yes! The famed McDonalds ... I worked there once, for a period of 7 months and the story I have to tell is of both a dark and sinister nature. One fine morning, waking up extra early so I can make my shift of 7am-3pm on a fresh, crisp sunday morning, I felt a wild desire to remain in bed that day. Little did I know that I should have followed my soul's advice and reached for the "off" button on my alarm clock.

Alas, it was not to be. I woke up, got into my mom's car (I was 17 and could not quite yet afford a car of my very own), and drove the several miles to the McDonalds which I shall now describe. It was yellow with a nice red hat for a roof, it had large glossy windows and was generally in a state of intense upkeep. The drive thrus were well staffed and there was never anything to really complain about at the front counter. Until that fateful day.

I entered my workplace, and everything was as usual. I clocked in, and everything was as usual. I went in the back to restock the ketchup... and thats when things went absolutely haywire. I walked into the stock room to see my manager, yes my MANAGER engaging in oral sex with one of the overweight, aging, disgusting bald men who work in the grill. The poor woman, down on her knees, did not see me and continued with her work. I vomited. I cursed. And then I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, and I promised to never, ever return to a fast food place again. This memory haunts me forever and I think that by finally letting go of this experience I can once again return to what was once my favorite food in the entire world. A Number-two, no pickels, with a sprite... supersize that please.

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