Today’s rant is brought to you by the annoying redhead…
Since yesterday the temperature here has dropped about twenty degrees, so I figured for a nice change-o-pace I’d cruise through the drive through and get a rib-sticking but not wallet-cramping lunch. It went something like this:
Microphone: Take your order?
Me: Yes. I’d like a small chili, baked potato and a large Diet Coke.
Microphone: (Silent.)
Me: (Silent.)
Microphone: Just a minute.
Me: (Silent.)
Microphone: That was a large chili and a small diet?
Me: No. A small chili, a baked potato and a large Diet Coke.
Microphone: Four-fifty.
Me: (Silent at window.)
Window: Four-fifty.
Me: Here you go. (Hand over cash.)
Window: (Hands me beverage.)
Window: (Hands me change.)
Window: (Hands me bag.)
Me: (Look inside bag and see fries and a sandwich.)
Me: This isn’t mine. (Hand back bag.)
Window: What did you have?
Me: A small (&*$!ing) chili, baked (&*$!ing) potato and a large (&*$!ing) Diet Coke!
Window: Oh. Give me that. (Points to drink.) That’s not yours.
Me: (Hand over drink.)
Window: (Hands me a different bag of food and the same (&*$!ing) drink I just handed over a second ago!)
Me: Thanks.
Window: Sorry.
Me: No problem.
Get back to work and enjoy (&*$!ing) slightly cooked potato with quarter-sized portion of Wacky Whip (or whatever stuff they are using as margarine). Chili is OK. Thank goodness I had some crackers in my desk.
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