It's a weird moment when you realize that you're hearing someone's internal monologue before you can even see them.
"I must be going crazy," said the voice over the drive-through as I rolled my window down and came to a stop at the outdoor menu. For the rest of the conversation, it was clear that the mute button wouldn't be in play. I have felt that kind of exasperation, but I still remained hopeful because, after all, we're just talking about coffee and doughnuts, right?
I waited until I was addressed and, as a pre-New Year's resolution, I agreed to forsake the pleasantries (I have a tendency to ask drive-through workers how their day is going, which exasperates my wife and thoroughly confuses people who are used to punching in an order and keeping the line moving). I laid out my order for a coffee, doughnut and egg sandwich, using the diction and projection I acquired courtesy of middle school musicals.
"Oh, I don't know how to make that," were the next eight words out of the drive-through speaker. This was not in relation to my order; it was for the gingerbread iced coffee that the car in front of me had requested. In the drive-through team's defense, I don't know what a "gingerbread iced coffee" means either.
Two cars and a quarter of an hour later, I was back on the road, glad that I don't have a direct pipeline to the inner workings of the minds of everyone I come across. I'm sure the results would be equally disastrous.
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"We got 2 potpies and six wings, that's it. Can I take your order?" Heard at the KFC formally on Rainbow Blvd.
I dont ever go through the drive-thru.
For one, I prefer to face my order taker.
Two, if my order gets f'd up, I'm right where I need to be to remedy the mistake.
Three, I never eat 99% of the menu items they way they are offered. Call me picky, but I dont do mayo, mustard, or ketchup on my sandwiches, which refers us back to reason #2.
In an effort to eat half way healthy, I very seldom patronize fast food joints anyways.
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