An Open Letter To Taco Bell
Screw you, Taco Bell.Forgive my vulgarity, dear readers, but I am now officially done with the Bell. Oh, I've enjoyed their semi-seasoned tasteless versions of Mexican foods available to everyone who can scrape together a dollar, but now I'm done.
I went through the drive-through last night and bought a late dinner for two, and in spite of repeating the order twice, they still managed to get every single one of my items wrong.
Yep. I'm not talking about a small error, like forgetting an item, or saying "stalactite" when you really meant "stalagmite." Each and every one of the items I was counting on for my dinner were incorrect.
I'll be honest, I know these fast food places aren't staffed by future ambassadors and patent holders. That's one of the things that bothers me so much about this problem. When I order my Taco Bell food, I usually get it without veggies.
It's not like the tacos are already put together, when you order, they have to make it on the taco assembly line. All I'm asking these quasi-sentient sloths to do is to not put their freakin' hand in the lettuce and drop it into my taco shell.
That's all. Just don't put lettuce on it. Be lazy. Take a few seconds off. Don't do everything you usually do. Don't put your hand in the lettuce. That's all. I'll be happy with meat and cheese, and you can go back to pretending to take the trash out and just getting high behind the dumpster.
I called and asked to speak to the manager, which resulted in me having this conversation with a troglodyte named "Mark," or "Bart," or some other monosyllabic name he mumbled when he realized I was a disgruntled attempted Taco Bell consumer.
Reid: I just went through your drive-through and ordered, and you got all of my order incorrect.
Taco Bell Taco Engineer: Oh, sorry sir.
Reid: You don't sound sorry.
Taco Engineer: Oh, sorry sir.
Reid: Anyway, I want my money back.
Taco Engineer: You can come back, or we can take your name and make it up to you later.
Reid: I don't want to do that. I want my transaction reversed.
Taco Engineer: Oh. So you want us to take down your name?
Reid: No. I didn't pay thirteen dollars to buy tacos next week sometime, I wanted them for dinner tonight. I paid with my debit card, I want the transaction reversed and refunded.
Taco Engineer: Oh. We can do that, if you have your receipt and credit card receipt. (hangs up)
After staring at my phone for a solid minute muttering "He hung up on me. I can't believe that son-of-a...", I called the home office, that 1-800-TACO-BELL number that nobody ever answers. Of course, nobody answered.
"We're Open Late At The Bell! And Employing Simpletons! Good Luck!"
5 Comments:
Uh...Merry Christmas, Reid??
Read me next to last blog. I feel you pain.
I totally understand your pain.
I ask Karen to pick out the dark kernals of cat food for me and she just laughs. It's very frustrating to have such an inadequate staff.
Karen's thing is beans. She hates them. Won't eat anything with them in the room. It grosses her out. In fact, she doesn't frequent Taco Bell because they don't quite get the concept of "no beans, please".
--P
Jerome, yep. It's the happiest Christmas ever, trust me. I'm swearing off of discount tacos, and feeling good about it.
Trav, hilarious blog on the mystery meat. That's some quality idiots you guys deal with behind the counters out west.
And Penelope, if I can't get them to lay off of the veggies, I can't imagine any way they would ever smarten up enough to keep their hands out of the beans. It's probably best to just eat of the dumpster.
Well, they did get MY part of the order correct. :)
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