We made a trip to the casino on Monday. As usual, Farmer H was the driver sweaver, and wanted to make good time. Even The Pony, who is usually the mediator between the warring parties, took my side and said, "Dad. You are going a LITTLE FAST." But that was on the way back. Right now we're concerned with the quest for breakfast.
As always, we stopped about 30 minutes into our 90-minute journey, at McDonalds, just before getting on the highway. At the drive-thru order speaker, the gal kept talking over Farmer H. I don't know if it's just a bad habit, or if they had a delay in their speaker system. Usually they will at least let you make a statement before butting in.
Our order was the same as always. Two sausage, egg, and cheese McMuffins, and a sausage biscuit, hash brown, and large Sprite. The former for me and Farmer H, and the latter for The Pony.
That Gal kept stopping Farmer H mid-sentence. "Two? You want two of them?" So he'd repeat. Then she said, "And a sausage biscuit?" And Farmer H would add, "And a hash brown and a large Sprite." And she would repeat them one at a time, so he'd try to say the next one. It was really annoying.
Anyhoo... in all this butt-in talkoverness, That Gal said to drive around. So we moved ahead to the pay window. They had it covered with advertisements, so you couldn't see inside. We waited. I had already handed Farmer H the debit card, so he didn't have to dig into his pocket for his billfold. We waited.
"Did she say pull to the SECOND window?"
"I don't know. I didn't think so. But I couldn't tell over her butting in every time you talked."
Finally Farmer H pulled to the pickup window. It was also closed, with advertisements blocking a view inside.
"Don't nobody work at this place? I'm gettin' tired of waitin'!"
"They have the windows blocked so you can't see them all inside playing on their phones, heh, heh!"
"Now there's a guy behind me. He's doing something at that window."
"Oh. So now they'll get our orders mixed up."
"I guess I'll drive back around. Ain't nobody openin' this window!"
Back we looped through the parking lot. Another truck was ordering. The one before it was getting food out of the pick-up window.
"He's probably looking at our food, unwrapping it, saying it's not his, and handing it back!"
As we approached the speaker again, I told Farmer H: "Be nice. I don't want them spitting in our food. You know they will!"
"I was just here, and--"
"We gotcha. Pull around."
So we did. And nobody came to the pay window. Again.
"Did she say second window?"
"I don't know! But those other two paid here."
Finally a gal opened the window. Farmer H complained about nobody waiting on him. "Yeah. We're shorthanded today." She took the debit card and handed it back. Said to pull forward. Where again, nobody opened the window.
"That was probably the one who kept interrupting you! Pretending it was somebody else. Now it's taking time because they have to unwrap and re-wrap our food to spit in it! And look at THAT guy coming across! He's probably going to work just now!" It was a skinny dude, sipping through a straw, adjusting his crotch with his other hand, walking towards the back entrance.
Finally, the window opened. Our food was stacked in a small bag, to the top! Usually it's in a medium bag. I told The Pony to make sure it was all there, and the right stuff. He said it looked like it was. When The Pony handed a McMuffin up front for Farmer H, it did indeed look like the wrapper had been undone. Or maybe it just wasn't creased enough to stay closed.
Farmer H and The Pony ate their food as we rolled down the highway in A-Cad. I waited, as usual, for another 30 miles, until we were closer to the casino. That's for medicine and bathroom purposes, not fear of food-spit.
I WILL say I was relieved that The Pony and Farmer H showed no ill effects from their food, as I started to eat mine.
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