Here’s a conversation I’ve had more than once at various locations of this venerable establishment:
Food Service Worker: Hello, may I help you?
Me: I’ll have a number three meal with a Diet Coke to go, please.
FSW: What kinda drink you want?
Me: Diet Coke.
FSW: For here or to go?
These food service workers are almost always immigrants. They’re not panhandling for spare change at the front door like the people who were born here. They work hard at a thankless job for an ungrateful public for very little money and in a language not their own.
I will repeat myself as many times and in as many permutations as they require. And without resentment.
God bless them, every one.