Despite this happening Thursday, I needed a few days before writing about it to calm the fuck down. I’ve never been more pissed at someone in the restaurant industry in my 45 years. I’m still irate and fuming to be honest.
Chipotle At Last!
We live just outside of Columbus, Ohio. Though we can be downtown in 20 minutes, we can also be in a cornfield in 10. It’s honestly perfect because it’s right off of interstate 70. The only downside is that we’re still a developing area. So as you might imagine, when we found out we were getting a Chipotle less than one mile from our house, we were beyond ecstatic. When we got the news we all hugged each other as if a close relative had been on the space station for the past year and just landed. Yes friends, our Chipotle had landed, one mile away.
Chipotle for Lunch
Thursday, I was taking a half-day from work so I could get my 17-year-old to the airport in the afternoon. He’s visiting a friend down in Florida while we continue to ask ourselves why we don’t live in Florida. After a unanimous decision for Chipotle, I preordered our meals so I could pick them up at 12:30.
I arrive just at 12:30 to a line of cars wrapped around the building and almost every parking place taken. No matter, I was taking a half-day and was in a very good mood. I walked in and inquired about my order. They said it wasn’t ready yet and to have a seat. To make the time go faster, I pulled up a game on my phone. I deduced that if I pulled the game up and was winning, my order would be done faster. After all, that is how irony works. It’s along the same lines of using the restroom to make the food come quicker at a restaurant. Never tried it? I dare you to the next time and report back to me.
The Beginning of the End
I’m a super patient person when it comes to the food service industry. I grew up in food service, worked in food service and hell, I’m a buyer now for food service. But when we were going on 21 minutes past the time my order was to be ready, I began to get agitated. I walked up to the cashier.
“Excuse me, my order was to be done at 12:30. It’s now 12:51. I really need my order,” I said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the manager listening to me. She was a tall, morbidly obese, young woman. She had jet black hair and faux eyelashes. Word gets around in a small town and I only knew she was the manager from the descriptions provided by my son’s friends. Multiple teens had quit that Chipotle already because of this woman. Apparently, she’s ridiculously nasty to her direct reports. Given the state of the world, those kids don’t have to put up with it.
“Ma’am, we had like 15 Door Dash orders all come through at the same time when your’s came through.”
Not being one to let a challenge go and being ridiculously hangry, I took the bait.
“And I understand this so your corporate needs to figure out how not to tell me that my order will be ready at 12:30 and it’s now 12:55.”
“Well it isn’t our fault,” she shot back. The one thing I can’t stand are unapologetic assholes who can never take accountability.
“Actually it is because this is your Chipotle and my order is now 25 minutes late.”
“We’ll have it to you as soon as we can.”
Five minutes later, she handed me my bag with a shit-eating grin. The fuck if I was going to eat the burrito she probably just spit in.
My Name Isn’t White Rice on the Side!
I took my bag and opened it up and noticed my portion cup of white rice was missing. When you order Chipotle online, there isn’t anywhere to write a special note but you do give each meal a name. About 2 years ago, I made my name WHITE RICE ON THE SIDE and it works 80% of the time. The employees see it and put my rice on the side. When they miss it, I politely ask for my side of rice and I’m on my way. It’s never been an issue until this shit shack decided to fuck with the process.
“Excuse me, I asked for white rice on the side,” I said.
“Ok, that will be $1.10,” the robot behind the register said.
“No, I get it on the side.”
Again, troll manager listening to every word I say, waddled up.
“We don’t see the names.”
This took me aback because if four people order burritos and they’re all different, don’t you have to look at the names to put the right name on the right burrito?
Frustrated, I decided this wasn’t going to be the hill to die on. I threw my burrito back in the bag, turned on my heel and walked out. I got into my car and thought about it for a second.
‘This would be the hill to die on,’ I thought and walked back inside.
The End is Near
Fortunately, no one was at the register and I walked up and held my burrito up.
“It says white rice on the side.”
Fat Albert walked up again, annoyed with me beyond belief.
“Ma’am,” she said firmly. “We don’t see the names.”
“I understand that but my name isn’t white rice on the side! It would be the same thing if someone asked you to put their salad dressing on the side!”
Then she took a tact I had never seen in…..actually ever…..
“You’re always rude when you come in here!” She says to me.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked shocked. My blood wasn’t just boiling, it was bubbling over like that scene in Steel Magnolias where Julia Roberts is on the floor dead and the sauce pan is overflowing with boiling water. “I’ve been in this place twice since you opened!” I would do the math later and realize it was actually one time. One time I’ve been in there.
Equally tactful and beyond pissed, I announced to the now quiet group of customers, “YOU BERATE YOUR EMPLOYEES IN FRONT OF EVERYONE AND YOU ARE A NIGHTMARE!”
And with a flick of my hair, I turned around and walked out.
Follow Up and Reviews
This is an unfolding train wreck and I can assure you IT ISN’T OVER! I’m waiting on Chipotle to get back to me and I’ve written a “wonderful” Google review. If you think I’m being a little Karen, allow me to provide some recent reviews of this same Chipotle. This is just a sliver of the “glowing” reviews of this one location: