Next Time Let Them See You Sweat

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is quick to anger. Like, snatch you up by the hair of your head and drag you out that drive-thru window quick to anger. Take today, for instance.

I had dropped The Pony off for an afternoon of bouncy games, church-cleaning, pizza, and movies. More on that another day, perhaps. The day was on the downhill slide, Farmer H was gone moving the #1 son's furniture to his college house, and I stopped by Hardee's for a taco salad. They sell them there, you know. They advertise them on their menu. So it did not seem untoward for a customer such as me to request one at the drive-thru speaker.

There was a single car ahead of me, and I reveled in my luck. The wait last week for The Pony's sausage biscuit was quite lengthy, and we left without a biscuit. I kid you not. The guy said they were out of biscuits, and to make some would take 20 minutes, or he could give us a sausage croissant. Believe you me, this croissant had never seen even the map of France. AND, they were out of salt and pepper packets! The Pony was sorely disappointed in his choice. "Next time we'll say FORGET IT and go by McDonalds!" Seriously. What kind of fast food restaurant does not expect to sell biscuits at 7:30 in the morning?

Anyhoo...the cost of my taco salad was $6.27. That's highway robbery! I remember when you could get TWO of them for $5.00! But I have not had a storebought taco salad for nigh on a year, so I was willing to part with my could-have-been lottery money. I had a ten dollar bill, a quarter, and two pennies in my hand, ready to fork over. I waited. And waited. Four minutes passed before anyone even came to take my money.

As I forked it, the quarter stuck to my finger. The Hardee Man said, "Six twenty-seven." I pried that quarter off the tip of my finger and let it drop into his hand. He turned to the register. "Six sticky-seven." He might have thought this was funny. I, myself, did not.

"Well, I've been waiting for a while. It was growing to my finger."

"Hey. It could be worse." (How? Maybe if you were out of shells for your taco salad? And sauce and lettuce? I did not put this into out-loud words. He barely left time for my would-be repartee.) "It could be 110 degrees out there."

Yeah. As opposed to the 86 degrees of today. So hot that I let T-Hoe guzzle gas so I did not perish during my extended wait. Hardee Man must have sensed the itchiness of my hair-snatchin' hand, because he did not return with my bag. In his place was a young man who wished me a nice day and thanked me. I thanked him back, and he said, "My pleasure." That's what all the polite ones do there. I think it must be their official store policy.

Somebody better be wearin' a hairnet next time he smarts off to me. Man-hair ain't safe through a window from Hillbilly Mom.