You’re the clean-freak customer who walked into my Chipotle on a rainy Sunday afternoon. I’m the burrista you verbally abused when told an extra serving of grilled chicken on your tacos would cost you an additional $1.75. You then proceeded to tell me that you wanted extra chicken but did not want to pay more money. I added a few pieces of meat, but you weren’t satisfied. “I want more meat!” you screamed. You demanded to see a manager, whom you told that I’d given you attitude. You also said that I wasn’t being hygienic because I wouldn’t change my gloves every time I made a new burrito. If I did that, it would take me forever to serve each customer.
But I’m not complaining about you; I’m thanking you. Many of the customers who were behind you felt sorry for me and tipped me a couple of extra bucks. That night, I walked out with $7 in tips instead of the regular $3! Still, I fear for future food-service employees you encounter. I saw murder in your eyes, and I’m worried what might happen if there isn’t another good manager around to calm you down and give you a free meal.
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