It Boggles the Mind 3: Fast Food Edition

Oh, what an interesting half hour I had tonight:

At 8:07, I arrived at a local fast food chain's drive thru. I'm not going to name the place, but let's just say it rhymes with "Fairy Spleen". I know it was 8:07, because I glanced down to turn the CD player down. The CD player was on an AC/DC disc, from Slot 4, Cut 6 in the changer. Store this information, it's important to the story.

I was the fourth car in line, behind a boring Chevy sedan (okay, that was redundant), a white four door Pontiac Grand Prix (a good looking car, by comparison to the afore mentioned Chevy), and a BMW Z3 convertible, driven by a young man of fairly immense proportions, he looked slightly out of place in this little car. Why do I have so much information here? Because I had plenty of time to assimilate it, that's why.

Window down, I listened as the people in front of me ordered. At 8:10, the Chevy ordered two ice cream treats. Now, keep in mind this Fairy Spleen does serve hot food, but they STILL specialize in ice cream delights. I hear the person on the other end say "pull ahead to the window" and the Chevy sits still. Why? Because it cannot move. I'm guessing (not sure, just judging distance in my mind) there are three cars in front of the Chevy waiting for their order.

Finally, at 8:14, we lurch forward. The lady in the white Pontiac orders a drink and an ice cream treat. At 8:17, the Z3 driver orders THREE ice cream treats (not all for himself, I'm guessing). Finally, at 8:20, I get to move to the order screen. At 8:23 (!) I order. I order two large Pepsi's. I'm greeted with "what size mistys did you say?" I repeat, "two...large...Pepsi's...Cola...in a glass...with a straw...".

She does not sound amused. I cringe at my next item before I even get it out: "I also need a large Sierra Mist". Oh, oh. Surprise! She gets it. Then says, "that it?"

"Nope, I also need two plain hot dogs."

"What do you want on them?"

"Nothing. Plain is fine."

"zat it?"

"I also need a caramel Sundae."

"What size?"

"Small"

"We're out of small cups."

"Fine. Medium. Do I get that at a small price?"

"'zat it?" (The lack of a sense of humor is appalling to me.)

"Yep, that'll do."

"Please pull forward."

At 8:28, the Z3 gets his three ice cream treats, totalling just over $5. Not wanting to be left out in totally pissing me off, he breaks out the debit card to pay for it. This, of course, is followed by an employee leaving the drive thru area to go to the front...I do not blame Fairy Spleen for this...who the hell uses a debit card for five-something dollars at a drive thru? In a BMW? With the top down? Sheesh.

It's 8:32. Those four minutes were used for the employee to jog three blocks to the South Side Bank ATM, pull out five-something dollars for the guy, and jog back with his receipt and his card. Apparently. I notice the CD is on Slot 4, cut 12. Crap. I've missed 1/2 of an AC/DC disc. I also observe the gas gauge in the Ford to be in a different position than when I arrived.

At 8:34, I pull to the window. Four employees are staring up at a screen that I cannot see. They are either looking at my order, or watching The Gilmore Girls. I can't be certain. I pay. I wait. At 8:36, I get my beverages. With one loose lid that threatens to turn the passenger side of the Explorer into Lake Sierra Mist. But I catch it.

At 8:37...YES, a FULL 1/2 HOUR, we HAVE A WINNER!!!!....at 8:37, I get my plain hot dogs. I drive away, and notice that while I pulled up to the south side of the building wearing sunglasses as Ol' Sol tried to squeeze through the clouds at sunset, I am now having to turn on the headlights as I leave the North side of the building. Damn. Summers are so short anymore. And mine was spent in the drive through at a Fairy Spleen.

I cannot emphasize this enough, the three in front of me ordered about 12 dollars TOTAL worth of ice cream treats and beverages. And it STILL took that long.

As I pull onto Sher...oops, I can't name the street, you might figure out where I was. Um, er, as I pull onto the street, I turn up the CD player. Marc Chesnutt is singing "Someone Save The Honky Tonks". Angus Young is nowhere to be found.

Hells Bells.