Y’know, I really do try.
Really I do.
I want to like fast food. Well, not so much the food as the idea behind it. It seems like a good thing. Had a busy day? Run down to Speed-a-burger and bring it home for all to eat. You can still sit at the table with fast food, without the dishes to clean-up.
But somewhere along the lines, the customer service went straight out the window never to return. Some Joe probably got it served to him instead of the large fry he ordered and he decided to keep it out of spite.
I don’t recall having a lot of fast food as a kid. In fact, I remember the opposite. I remember my sister, Angie, and I screaming at the top of our lungs to stop at the golden arches. My first real memories of fast food come from the “after game” visits the ball team would have after a victory (and we “generally” won. Dad, my coach, went something like 110-11 in the last five years I played.) when we would stop and get ice cream–some of the guys choosing burgers.
Then, in college, fast food became more common to me because I worked and thus had a little disposable money and had more important things to do than worry about eating. Of course, I put on my fair share of the freshman 15!
When we moved to Loretto, TN and then to Piggott, AR, we didn’t eat much fast food simply because there weren’t a lot of choices to be had. Not only that, our budget was just a little tighter those days and peanut butter sandwiches and doritoes had to act as Big Macs and fries.
But Brittany likes Taco Bell (I won’t buy drinks there, btw–nothing but Pepsi products) but my stomach doesn’t care much for it. I just can’t eat it while traveling–just can’t. So, now that there is a Taco Bell right at a mile from us currently, Brittany wants to eat there often.
On a recent night in particular, Brittany’s practice had lasted till nearly 7 p.m. and it was just flat late. Listen—Brett’s bedtime is 8 p.m. and we try our best to eat as a family and did so that night, too. But not before I broke down and agreed to make the trek to Taco Bell.
TB was too crowded (don’t ask me why–because I can’t answer) with about 8-10 cars in line at the drive-through and I didn’t feel like waiting that long. About one block down sat the golden arches. The line wasn’t as long (only about 3-4 cars) plus there were only a few people standing inside. I pulled up to the window and ordered 4 burgers and 2 fries. That’s pretty simple. None of them were to be specially made—don’t hold or add anything unusual.
I paid my money, pulled up to the second window, they handed me my bag. I peeked inside (a rule now–we almost NEVER get what we order at any ff place) as I inched my truck forward. With the rear bumper even with the window, I stopped and yelled back to the window that I needed one more burger. The lady at the window checked the receipt and said I only paid for three.
And then stared at me. As if to say, “so go on.”
(sorry, I rambled so long here that I’ll have to continue it next time. See, I really do ramble!)