Some G.
Google
I ordered noodles for my daughter, paid for them, and then asked for a fork. The chick behind the counter hits me with, "Oh, we're out of utensils." Seriously? I guess my 7-year-old was just supposed to slurp those noodles down with her bare hands. That little detail would've been nice to know before I handed over my money. I wasn't about to let that happen, so I tossed the food and went to Panda Express instead. Look, I get it—you're running a zoo of high schoolers and special-ed adults because no mentally stable person is working at a food court in a mall. But for the love of God, at least try to do the bare minimum.