The Happiest McDonald's Customer. Ever.

"You can take that bisuit and shove it where the sun don't shine."

"Thank you sir, I'll do that!"

It was about the middle of breakfast rush at McDonald's when I served him with a smile on my face. A forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Here at McDonalds there are three kind of people. Happy people, rushed people, and the downright unbearable people who are like that anyway and you shouldn't take it personally. Or so they say, anyway.

About 20% fall into the first category. 70% fall into the middle category. The last 10% doesn't rear it's head unless it's the middle of breakfast, lunch, or dinner rush.

The happy people always have kids. Always. About two or three of 'em. Rushed people--if they have kids at all--only have one. The happy people stay and go into the kids area to let them kill each other there, and the rushed people leave.

The 10 percenters leave, yes. But then they come back as if people want to talk to them even more.

So here I was, in the middle of breafast rush when I saw him come in. He looked like any other customer. Jeans, nicely comed hair, t-shirt, and a wallet in his hand.

But then he opened his mouth and talked. He didn't know what he wanted to order. That's always a setback in a ten percenter. This means that they will stand there wasting your time for ten minutes, having the people in the line behind him turn from the 70% crowd to the 10% crowd.

So of course, when he changed his mind for the fourth time, the assistant manager came over. She zeroed the order out and let him say what he wanted. Then again, he changed his mind. Finally, the store manager came over and asked what was going on. The man became very rude telling us that he had told us his order 4 times now, and he wanted to get it into the computer and get his food.

She was patient with him, I'll give our store manager that. More resolve than I might have had. She finally got his order in, repeated it back to him, and he said it was right. He got his food and left, and we all breathed a sigh of long-belated relief that he was gone.

Hurrah. Now I can get to the other customers. Skip ahead one hour. I look up to greet someone coming in the door, and I freeze with horror.

He had come back. He was now an official ten percenter. And he was mad.

He rushed over to us poor cashiers (all two of us, me including), and demanded to know why we were so stupid as to why we couldn't take down a single order. Needless to say, our store manager rushed over to see why this customer was about to attack us.

He demanded (again) to know why they employed stupid people, and told her that we got her order wrong. (He neglected to realize that we don't actually make the food. We put it into the computer, and the people in the kitchen get it right or wrong. But we don't tell ten percenters that small fact.)

She told him politely that she had read his order back to him and he said it was right. He promptly said that she was calling him a lier. She offered to replace the biscuits he had ordered. Then came the infamous line.

"You can shove that biscuit where the sun don't shine." He angrily said.

"Thank you sir, I'll do that." Came the happy reply.

It all ended rather dramatically with him storming out. And then we could stop being polite to him and bash him.