Something I've been meaning to blog about ever since the day it happened . . . which is now probably about a month ago.

You see, on this particular night, I was on the closing crew, if I remember correctly. It was probably sometime between seven and eight PM. Work has been relatively slow lately, mostly due to the cold, snowy weather. I was in the kitchen making orders. I had only minutes before been in the drive-thru and therefore was still wearing my headset. So, as a co-worker of mine took an order, I heard the whole thing. Not that I needed a headset for that; we have speakers in the kitchen ceiling for the purpose of hearing what orders will be coming back.

Lemme clarify something for those of you who are unfamiliar with Culver's restaurants. We are much between a sit-down (like Applebees) and a fast-food (like Burger King). We have various aspects from both categories. Like your typical fast-food, we have a drive-thru, you order your food at a register up front, and have your standard burgers, fries, onion rings, etcetera. But much like a sit-down restaurant, we bring the food to your table, have a humongous menu of choices to pick from, food items you don't see in other fast-food places (For Example: a complete dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a dinner roll), and we don't cook the food until you order it (no cooking a half-dozen burgers ahead of time and just grabbing the next one on the line when some poor fool orders one). This last part is very important.

Now then, I will continue. I hear some lady order a chili dog. That's it. No cheese on it, mind you. So I set to grilling the hot dog.

Well, a few short moments later, aforementioned co-worker comes in the kitchen to inform me that the guest has made a special request. This is nothing new. I mean come on, it's Culver's. It's what we do. But when I heard what the request was...

Yeah, the chili on that chili dog? It CAN'T TOUCH THE BUN.

I'm serious here. No joke. Now the obvious answer would be to just put it on the side. But the guest wouldn't have it. She wanted it ON the dog but NOT touching the bun.

Well, as absurd as such a request is, it was some-what feasible. Our hot dogs are slit down the middle and grilled "open-face" on each side. Note that the hot dog isn't completely cut in two. So I finish grilling the hot dog and begin to put the chili on the slit down the middle such that it wouldn't spread to the bun.

I fit maybe a tablespoon and a half on there.

I place the hot dog in one of those foam-box-things (we call them "clamshells") and marked the order ready-to-go. I remember watching my manager, oblivious to what was at stake, pick the box up and tip it as he placed it in the traditional white paper bag. I distinctly remember thinking "Ooo, that can't be good".

Oh, I forgot to mention something else. Since we make your food to order, we obviously can't have you sitting at the drive-thru window waiting for it to finish cooking, despite the fact it never takes more than four to five minutes. You'd be surprised how fast those cars can pile up. So, we hand the customer a number to put on their car somewhere and have them pull ahead away from the window so that the next guest may be helped.

Well, as my manager was taking the order out to the lady's car, the lady came in the restaurant and began talking to the person who took her order. This lady seemed angry that, supposedly, when my co-worker was told of the special request, she "wasn't paying attention". She was accused of totally blowing the person off and ignoring her. Now, we know that can't be true because otherwise I wouldn't have been told of said preposterous request.

The lady went from arguing to yelling, first just at the co-worker. Then she started complaining to the manager. At this point, there were on the other side of the first door (there are two sets of door(s) as is also typical of most restaurants) and I could no longer hear them. But when my co-worker came back in at one point, this crazy old coot of a woman was now yelling at the manger. It would appear that my manager had said something relatively in defense judging by the way the guest said "Listen here! I KNOW when somebody's not listening to me!"

Whatever became of the chili dog, I don't know. All I do know is that after the guest drove away (after probably five to ten minutes of shouting) and finally went home, she called back THREE TIMES to complain some more. This, my fellow BZPers, is called "taking it too far".

While I'm not a hostile person at heart, I take no shame in saying that I hope to NEVER see or hear from her again.

This incident has become the root of many jokes, such as somebody saying, "Don't let the cheese touch the burger!" and I'm probably the one to blame for starting them. So don't be surprised if someday I shout something similar. At least now you'll know what I'm talking about.

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