rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance "I Want A Burger With EVERYTHING!" "lol ok"

Episode Date: June 21, 2020

r/Maliciouscompliance In today's episode, a father at a restaurant asks his waitress for a burger "with everything." The problem is that the restaurant offers like 50 different burger toppings. When the waitress asks to clarify, the father gets angry and screams at the waitress that he wants EVERYTHING! Malicious compliance activated! OP makes him a burger that is basically just a giant tire of goo and slop. Enjoy your meal, sir! If you like this podcast and want to see more, follow my podcast for more daily Reddit content! 🔔 Subscribe: https://bit.ly/2E3A8i6 💬 Discord: https://discord.gg/Rtwc9ZC 🎧 Podcast: https://link.chtbl.com/rslash ⚓ Send me a voice message: https://anchor.fm/rslash 📸 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rslashyt/ ♪ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@rslash0 🛒 Merch: http://bit.ly/rSlashMerch Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For your holiday season, real Canadian Superstore has more legendary ways to save than any other major grocer. Until December 6th, get a free Jumbo point set when you spend $300 or more. Plus, PC Optimum members can get select PC or no-name cheese at $3.99. Conditions applies to fly for details. Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash from Delicious Compliance, and next award from our sponsors. My first job was weightlifting at a 50s diner style burger joint.

I think I was about 16, it was a sweet gig. My co-workers were generally nice, the customers were a mixed bag. Though we did have one homeless guy that would come in and do our food challenge weekly for a free meal, he was cool. Anyways to the story at hand, I had a family come in. If I remember correctly, it was the traditional dad, mom, and two kids. It was lunch rush, and basically all the tables in the bar were filled. So I'm taking their order and the dad asked for a burger. What would you like on that burger? Everything. Well, we have a lot of options. I gesture

to the menu section containing the topping choices. The dad does a once over, clearly not long enough to read, looks back at me and states, everything. At this point, I should note we had a bunch of choices. Looking at the restaurant's menu, they currently have mustard, onion, slaw, chili, mayo, ketchup, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, grilled jalapenos, grilled mushrooms, grilled onions, grilled peppers. I feel like there was even more choices when I worked there. This place also had 4-5 cheese options. I asked the dad a few more times if he sure.

I even tried to list the toppings. His wife even tried to explain the situation. I could tell he was getting agitated, but I also knew he didn't know what everything meant. Eventually, I take his word for an attempt to get the rest of his order. Do you want cheese? I said everything! Well, we have for everything!

Yikes! I want to point out that he's literally yelling here. Those exclamation points are not for emphasis. Well, I've finished taking the table's order. On the ticket, I remember specifically taking the time to meticulously write out every ingredient as clearly as I could. The tickets were small, and each ingredient was denoted by an acronym, so it was a challenge to fit everything. I also made sure to include every possible cheese. I knew this monstrosity was gonna get sent back.

I knew it wasn't a bombination, but I was determined to give this man what he asked for. The line-cooks looked at me like, you sure? With a simple nod, I pulled the trigger. I walked the burger out to the man with the biggest grin. It had to have been two pounds of sloppy wet burger. The annoyance on his face would have been reward enough, but as predicted, the father called my manager over and complained. My manager came to me fuming. Clearly he'd been chewed out by the man. You know you have to ask the customers what they wanted their burgers. I did, I. Well, the man at Table 11 said he didn't ask for that. Mind

you, I was still 16 at this point and timid. Still, I explained the situation. My manager's demeanor changed and he had a little smirk on his face. My manager asked me to follow him back to the table and grab the menu on the way. Hi, sir, I need some clarity. What exactly did you ask for on your burger? Uh, everything, but my manager opened the menu on the table pointing to the topping options. Sir, this is everything. This is what's on your burger. I'll be happy to remake the burger to your specifications if you can give them this time, but we're very busy and it could take a while. OP, please take his order. So, I did. I can't remember his actual order anymore, but it was definitely a more traditional burger. It probably took about 10 minutes to come out, so his family was mostly done with their

meal when he was beginning. We could have taken another burger off the line to make his, but why make a chill table wait? Down in the comments, we have this story from Grim Buddha. I had this same kind of thing happen at a subway I worked at. This dude had been kicked out of the store during the day when the owners were there, but still came in at night when all of us teens were working. He ordered a meatball and told me, I want everything on it. Don't eff it up. I'm going to the liquor store next door. I tried to

ask what he meant by everything, and he just gave me a vile look and walked out. I put every ingredient we had on the sub, including all the sauces, mayo, mustard, and every veggie we had. I got finished wrapping enough right as he walked back in. He paid and left. I never had the fun of seeing his face, but he also never came back, so it was still a win.

And we have yet another story from Epic Normalcy. I work in a pizza place. I once got an order for a garbage pizza. Important to note, no such pizza has ever existed on our menu. I've politely asked what exactly they wanted on this pizza. Everything! Okay, could you be more specific? We have a ton of toppings. Everything!

It's a garbage pizza. You put everything on it So you want me to include everything She was getting pissed and I was done. Are you sure you want all of our toppings? That's what I said we put every single topping on that pizza Sausage pepperoni, Canadian bacon pineapple jal, jalapenos, banana peppers, sauerkraut, shrimp, chicken, bacon, onions, on, and on. It was an absolute monstrosity. It smelled effing awful.

She picked it up, opened the box, and started freaking out. What the hell is this? What the f is this? It's everything, ma'am. You told me you wanted every single topping we have. This is it. She wanted to refund. We said no.

You got what you ordered. She pulled the whole. I never coming back and stayed true to her word. And in response to that, classiest Robin sums up my thoughts perfectly. Why do people threaten people making 725 an hour with never coming back? I could literally not care less. Actually, it's even better than that because you're doing that minimum wage worker a favor. Our next reddit postage from Sparkle Fritz. This wasn't me doing the malicious compliance

nor the request, but the middleman who witnessed this gloriousness. I worked for a movie theater company in a state that snows every winter. We had a contract with a snow shoveling company, but my boss refused to use it because the cost of each removal had a possibility of hurting his yearly bonus by a couple percent points, like $300 max out of $20,000. Only if it snows more than 6 inches, he would say every time. Unfortunately, this meant that one of the ushers would have to shovel snow on the sidewalk. Since its a safety hazard to block the emergency exit doors of a theater, it meant you had to shovel a path around the entire building and for each exit door.

Ultimately, due to the size, it's about a quarter mile around the building. No one likes doing it because it's cold, and shoveling a simple one-shuffle length path can take two hours. During a snowy Christmas week, which is the busiest week for movie theaters of the year, imagine Black Friday shopping for two weeks straight. It's snowed just under six inches. We were extremely busy and my boss demanded to take one of our much-needed ushers to go shovel snow. I was an assistant manager.

When we asked if the company would come out instead of us doing it, we were told no, to which one of my co-workers, we'll call him Dan, said he would do it. An hour later after Dan had gone outside, one by one my boss pulled each usher in and wrote them up for refusing to shovel snow. When Dan came back in, the other ushers complained to him about it. Dan asked our boss why, and our boss said that it was because no one wanted to shovel all the snow. And if Dan didn't shovel all the snow, he would get ridden up as well. This all happened at the beginning of my shift around 5pm. Cue the malicious compliance.

What my boss didn't realize was that it was the last day of the payroll period. Being Christmas week, Dan had already accumulated 40 hours of work earlier in the week. My boss left right after, telling Dan to make sure all of the snow was removed. We worked the rest of the shift, and everyone assumed Dan had finished and left. It's 3 a.m. now, and we go to punch out for the week, but can't because there's a shift that hasn't been improved yet. Someone is still working and is at 12 hours of overtime. It's Dan. I go out to investigate since it should only be myself

on my manager. As I walk outside, I see Dan coming back in and smiling the biggest grin on his face, and the most dry, unsnowed path I've ever seen in my life. There was not a speck of snow on the entire front path of the theater. Dan spent 10 hours outside making sure that he removed all the snow from the walkway. We had a good laugh, clocked off and left. We didn't hear anything until later that week when I was called to the office and had to run out of statement while at Dan worked 12 hours of overtime. East Side Mario's all you can eat. Is all you can munch a soup? Salad. And garlic home.

Oh my God. Mommy, I'm going to move out of here. Metrolinx and cross links are reminding everyone to be careful, as Eglinton Cross Town LRT train testing is in progress. Please be alert. This trains can pass at any time on the tracks. Remember to follow all traffic signals.

Be careful along our tracks and only make left turns where it's safe to do so. Be alert, be aware, and stay safe. My boss had this smug look on his face like he had beaten us. He wasn't too pleased when he found out that all of our statements included him saying the phrase, remove all the snow, and that he refused to call the snow plow company. My boss was transferred to another theater soon after. Our next Reddit post is from Pete Com. Some years ago, I was finally out of debt and ready to start investing for my future. But I

didn't have a clue how. That's when I heard about a national organization that promoted investment clubs, offering support and tools to help people like me learn about investing by doing it. I like the idea, gets smarter, play low stakes, and maybe have a beer or two while you do it. So, I told a few friends, they talked to their friends, and pretty soon we had a budding investment club. Since we were all friends of friends, they talked to their friends, and pretty soon we had a budding investment club. Since we were all friends and friends organizing went smoothly. We elected officers and adopted a simple charter based on the national group's templates.

Minimum monthly dues were set at $10, unamount any one of us could afford to throw away. But any member could contribute more than the minimum if they liked, and to build up our investing pot, most of us did. Individual contributions bought shares in the club's holding, like a stock in a corporation. Higher contributions meant more shares, which meant more voting power when we made club decisions. And then OP goes on to explain that new members have to be voted into the club, and that once you're a club member, you can basically buy voting power by spending more money on the club. The more money you spend on the club, the more voting power you have.

Then it came Pat. Pat was an outlier in our friend group. Most of us knew her, but few knew her well. She had a reputation for being a little too loud, a little too blunt, a little too cocky, a little too rude. But she was also known to be smart. In a club focused on learning, more smart couldn't hurt.

Right? Besides, our well-respected president had brought her in. And right away, Pat proved she was smart. She had reviewed our charter and our past minutes before she came to her first meeting. She asked solid questions about past decisions and her reasoning. She listened respectfully to the education and stock study presentations, probing politely, and made mostly appreciative comments after each meeting. She threw in a bit of smarty pants now and then, but we could handle it. After her third meeting, we centred to the next room while we discussed inviting her to join us. There were a few misgivings expressed. We had all heard stories about past capacity for unpleasantness after all, but the president said, I warned her pretty bluntly that she used to behave when she's here. We're all friends, but this is business. Money is serious, so I told her, keep yourself in check, leave your attitude outside.

Ultimately, everyone agreed she had indeed behaved. We had no reason to doubt her sincere interest. So we called Pat back in and president said, congratulations Pat, just pay your dues and sign here. With a flourish, Pat handed the treasurer a $10 bill and everyone applauded as she signed the charter. Then she said, thank you all, thank you. But frankly, you really don't have any way to keep me out. The room got quieter. Then she turned to the treasurer and said, now next, if I'm interpreting your little reports correctly, All I have to do is give you X amount of money and I'll have equal voting rights. Is that right? That's about right.

Yes, came the answer. And if I were to give you that plus and here, she pointed at the bottom line of the club's total holdings. This certain amount, I'd become the new majority shareholder, right? I suppose. And then I'd be in charge of all club decisions declared pat. That's right, unless you can all keep honing up more cash than I can. There's nothing you can do to stop me from running this club like my own little private

account, with nearly double my money to play with is there. And now that I've signed your silly charter, you don't even have any way to kick me out, so see you all next month. She smirked, turned, and left. The door had just barely closed when the room exploded. She was joking, right? Oh hell no. The nerve, could she really do that?

That can't be real. How big a mistake did we just make? Wow, what a class-aid jerk. But as we looked over our template-based charter, we found she was right. There were requirements for tax reporting, officer fiscal responsibilities, bank and brokerage relationships, conflicts of interest,

and a host of other issues we never faced and never expected to face. There was a boilerplate language about how to buy out a voluntarily withdrawing member. There was a provision allowing us to involuntarily withdraw someone who didn't keep up with dues and or attendance, but we had no cap on individual member contributions and no provision allowing us to kick out a stakeholder so long as they continue to pay their dues in attend meetings. And we now realize that if she could make good on her threat to buy majority holding, Pat could simply outvote any attempt to amend our charter.

A more elegant solution probably existed, but within 20 minutes someone came up with a new clear option. Two minutes later we agreed to launch it. We accepted assignments then went our separate ways to prepare for the next month's meeting. That evening everyone arrived a bit more promptly and settled a lot more quietly than usual. Pat looked smug as she took a seat, seeming not to care that no one spoke to her. She was ostentatiously fanning herself with a personal check. Too bad we never saw it, so we'll never know if she really was ready to put her money where

her loud mouth had been. The president took the floor. Before I call the meeting to order, I have a personal announcement to make. I made a really poor recommendation to all of you last month. I feel the bad judgment I showed means I'm not fit to be your president. I'm presenting my letter of resignation and my voluntary withdrawal from the club, and he solemnly gave the letter to the secretary. Pat looked like she'd been slapped, but said nothing. The treasurer spoke up. Just so you all know, the president spoke to me earlier about this decision, so I've already calculated the withdrawal payout and have it ready, according to the terms of our charter.

And the president took the check. The vice president spoke next. President you weren't alone in that decision. I voted with you and I also regret my poor judgment. Here is my letter of resignation and withdrawal. The treasurer said, and here is your withdrawal payout prepared as we discussed. And on it went, in small clusters at first, then all in a rush. Each club member declared they'd made a terrible decision, presented a letter and collected

an already prepared check. Sometime during the rush, Pat stopped being silent. Okay, I see, yeah, yeah, I get it. Seriously, you've made your point. That's enough now. You don't have to keep up this act. Not get off already, you effers. But we didn't. With all the letters collected, the secretary added them to the back of the fat binder containing copies of all the club minutes and gave the binder to Pat. Your next club secretary will need this. The treasure was right behind with a similar binder of financial records and a $10 bill on top.

Here's all your club's accounting records and remaining assets. The president added the sign charter to the stack. So Pat, looks like you're now a club of one. You win. Good luck. And goodbye. We all stood and stared silently until she shoved the stack to the floor and saw herself sputtering to the door. Within 10 minutes, we had signed our newly upgraded Charter, re-elected our officers, torn up all of our payout checks

and put our new club back to business as usual. Okay, maybe just a bit more giggly and a little more pleased with ourselves unusual. We never saw Pat again. Didn't care. Why did Pat monologue her evil plan like some sort of super villain in a movie? If she had just kept her mouth shut then she might have gotten away with it, but no, she just had the glow in front of everybody.

What a moron. That was our slash malicious compliance and if you like this content then follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcasts every single day. That was our slash malicious compliance and if you like this content then follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcasts every single day.