Tim Hortons, what the hell.
I'm... still processing this. So I might come off as extremely ragey.
Typically, I try to be extremely patient with Tim Horton's employees. I know from a few friends that work there that it's a remarkably shitty, thankless job - demanding, asshole customers, low pay, etc. I've rarely gotten an order at any Tim Horton's made correctly, but in the grand scheme of things - no big. They're stressed/training/having a bad day, whatever. I can move on.
This morning... well. Kinda supercedes any sucky service I've had there before. I was in line at the drive-through, already having placed my order. This line was taking an extraordinarily long time. I was stuck there for a good ten minutes, and I was supposed to be driving to work at that point.
Finally the car in front of me pulled away and I pulled up to the window. The man there already had a scowl, so I tried to be bright and cheery, knowing they probably had to deal with someone shitty in front of me.
Dialogue: M: Me, TE: Tim's employee
TE: That'll be [total].
M: *hands him a five*
TE: *stares at it, before sighing loudly* You don't have exact change?
M: Oh. I--
TE: It's not like it's that big an order.
M: Just a second, I can try t--
But at that point he had already turned away from me, muttering under his breath. I was slightly flabbergasted, but whatever, I just wanted to get to work at that point. He finally hands me both beverages. Just to be sure, I ask:
M: Thank you. This coffee is with milk, not cream, right?
TE: *stares*
M: ... right?
TE: You didn't ask for milk.
No, see, I definitely did. My dad (also my boss) is on a diet, and he made it EXPLICITLY clear that he wanted milk. I wouldn't have forgotten. I insist, no, I did, I definitey did, and he YANKS the coffee from my hand. At this point he must have spilled some on his hand, because he recoiled and nearly dropped the cup. He swore loudly and stormed off to re-do the coffee. I'm watching him slam things around, talking to himself, clearly monumentally pissed off.
At this point I'm still timidly trying to smile. I thank him when he comes to the window.
He hands me my coffee, glares hard at me, and mutters, "Fucking dyke." He then strides quickly away from the window.
I sat there staring, wide-eyed at the window for a few seconds. If I hadn't been so late at that point I would have parked that damn car and marched right into the store. As it is, I'll be visiting there tonight and probably writing corporate.
I'm so. Fucking. ANGRY.