So I head up the highway to Burger King. It is better than nothing, right?
I was not even hungry before my realization, but now I was fucking starving, so I go for the gold. Triple Whopper - the number three.
Me: "Yes, I'd like a number three please, large sized with onion rings, and a Dr. Pepper to drink."
Guy: "Ummm, uhhhh, okay. So you wanted a triple combo."
Guy: "What size?"
Guy: "Fries or onion rings?"
Me: "Onion rings please."
Guy: "And what to drink?"
Me: "Dr. Pepper please."
Guy: "Okay, I have a number three large sized with rings and a Dr. Pepper."
Me: "Yes, that is correct."
Guy: "Uh, okay. That will be eight twenty two at the first window."
Me: "No it won't."
Me: "The number three combo is seven sixty nine. I'm no mathematician, but seven sixty nine, plus a dollar for large size, plus tax, is more than eight twenty two."
Guy: "Uh, okay. Pull around to the first window for your total."
As I'm pulling around, I contemplate messing with the guy, and decide that I shall.
Me: "Hmm, maybe that is the right total after all. Is the sales tax negative twelve percent here?"
Guy (to a co-worker): "Hey, what's the sales tax here? Is it negative twelve percent?"
Co-worker: "Eight percent." *sighs*
Me: "Hmm, well that's not it. Read me back the order again and we'll see where it went wrong."
Guy: "Oh, I rang up a double."
Co-worker: "Don't worry about it, I got it."
Me: "Well I'm not going to argue with that!"
Guy: "Damn, that's one good looking truck."
I start to say thank you, but realize that he's looking past my truck, to a misfiring, rusted out 1984 Jeep Comanche with a horrid exhaust leak that is driving by. What the hell?
So I pull up to the second window, and notice "Guy" scooping up some fries while he's chatting it up with his co-worker. I will take this opportunity to mention that this guy's eyes were bloodshot enough to make Cheech and Chong say "Holy fuck, he's REALLY stoned!" The fries draw my attention, because I am the only one there, and I ordered rings. Apparently this occurs to him as well, because he dumps the fries, falls over, gets back up, and gets onion rings instead. Yes, he fell down after dumping out the fries. Really.
So he hands me the order, I check it, and await the drink. He stands there uncomfortably for several seconds, then tells me to have a good night again.
Me: "Man, I am SO thirsty. A Dr. Pepper would really hit the spot!"
Guy: "Yeah, that does sound good."
Me: "I sure wish I had one right about now. It would really go well with this burger and onion rings."
Guy: "Yeah, I love Dr. Pepper."
Me: "Me too. That's why I ordered one."
Guy: "Yeah, it's good...well, have a good night!"
Me: "Oh I will, but it would be SO much better with some Dr. Pepper."
Me: "In fact, that one right there looks fabulous. Can I have that one?"
Guy: "Oh, that is for a customer."
Me: "I know..."
Guy: "What do you mean?"
Me: "Let's play a game, called 'How many customers are at Burger King right now'."
Guy: "Uh, okay." *looks around, and out the drive-through window* "Looks like it's just you."
Me: "Then, following a logical path of deductive reasoning, whose Dr. Pepper would that be?"
Guy: "Ummmm... Oh. Here."
Me: "Thanks! Have a good one!"
Peace, love, and tards,
Current Mood: chipper
What I hear: Eminem - Lose Yourself