My wife called me at work today. Can you bring home Taco Bell?
We actually prefer Del Taco if we’re doing quick-service “Mexican food”, but our girls will complain it’s too spicy. I complain that Taco Bell in Lovejoy never gets our order exactly right.
There’s a funny thing about how Taco Bell gets our order wrong. I always order one plain bean burrito for one of our daughters, but they always (literally always) give us a normal one with the onions, sauce and cheese. She eats it anyway, but every time I feel bad that she didn’t get exactly what she wanted.
Today would be different, eventually.
This time when I drove up and ordered, I led out with the bean burrito. The order taker read back my special request in the form of a question. Yes, I said, we want a plain bean burrito: no cheese, no sauce, no onions.
At the window, I received the $25 worth of kinda-Mexican cuisine, and immediately I wondered if they finally got our order right.
They did not. Once again, I did not know this until we were all gathered around the dining room table at home. Once again, my little girl was disappointed but resigned to be okay with whatever she was given.
My daughter and I rode back up to Taco Bell and walked into the restaurant.
“Can I have a name for the order?” is how I was greeted. Right to the point. No feigning interest in how my day had gone so far
I asked how it would be possible to actually get a plain bean burrito when conducting business at the drive-through. Quickly, we were joined by a manager, and I told our story. I told him that we have literally never received the oft-requested plain bean burrito.
What’s the trick to getting this elusive treat? I asked him.
“First, I’m going to get you that bean burrito,” the man said, looking past me to my daughter. She grinned and nodded. A minute later, we had the burrito in hand. Just to make sure, I opened the tortilla to inspect it. Yep. Plain as requested.
What the manager did next was awesome. As I was discussing ways to avoid this hassle in the future, the manager had walked away and returned. Much to my daughter’s delight, he was holding a red frozen drink in his hand.
“I want you to have this,” the man told my daughter. “I’m sorry we got your order wrong.”
Sir, you just made a huge impression on my daughter, and you have touched this old man’s heart.
Thank you, Taco Bell manager, for not being defensive and for immediately making things right. We would have returned anyway and ordered again, albeit dubiously, but now we’re looking forward to our next visit.