This page ©1999 Chip Brown.

I Can't Eat There Again

I have several hobbies that I enjoy from time to time. As if you didn't know, I enjoy writing a bit of satire every now and then. I also enjoy genealogy, and metal detecting. But my most frequented hobby is making a fool of myself in fast food restaurants.

So for all of you who think I just make fun of other people, here's a little story about myself.

I've always had a hard time at drive through lines. When I was younger, and still today, though less frequently, I enjoyed playing music. Not music on a radio or stereo, but actually playing in a band. As a result, my left ear is somewhat lower volumed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hearing impaired, it's just not my good hearing side. Well this is the side you have to turn to the little speaker at drive throughs. This in itself has caused many embarrassing situations at McDonalds. Since I can't hear what they're saying I just tell them what I want, and hope for the best.

I wish I could blame this story on my hearing, but alas, it was just plain stupidity.

I never carry money on me. If I am ever mugged, the robber will probably give me money, because I am perpetually broke. So I depend on my wife to give me money for each individual item I want to purchase. Well this day I had to go to Knoxville and run some errands. So I stopped by the bank (where my wife works) and asked her for five dollars. She came to the window and handed me one of those money envelopes banks give you. I thanked her and left on my way.

Now I should explain, when I run errands, I always stop at Burger King for a number one, upsized with Coke to drink. This always came to $4.06, and I knew that. I would then eat my hamburger as I drove around town. This day was no different. So, as I drove towards Halls I glanced in the envelope and saw some ones. This satisfied me as my wife is always very precise. I did not feel the need to count the money at all.

I pulled up to Burger King at the dive through. The God in the Box (speaker sign) asked me if I'd like to try a value meal. I assure the lady that this was indeed my intention. I further explained I would require a number one, supersized, with Coke to drink. As expected, she informed my that my culinary selection would cost me $4.06.

I drove around to the appointed window and opened my money envelope. I withdrew the ones from it without making a count. After all my wife never makes mistakes! I handed the pile of ones to the lady without a second thought.

I then began to clear a place in my passenger seat for my fat laden cholesterol loaded lunch. Then it occurred to me that she was taking an odd amount of time for this. I turned and looked at this lady. She was probably in her early forties, and was grinning at me oddly. Then I saw another lady looking around the side of the front window at me. This went on for what seemed like minutes, with neither of us saying anything.

Finally I asked simply, "What?"

She held up a small piece of paper. It looked oddly like those pieces of paper my wife is always writing notes on. As she grinned at me I began to read the note in her hand. It simply said "I love you." Oh good grief, my wife had put a note in my money.

So in my best embarrassed English I said "Hey that wasn't for you!" Then I realized how harsh that sounded. I didn't want to hurt this lady's feelings. Looking back on it I should have stopped while I was ahead. Because, then I blurted out "But that's not to say you're not a nice person." Further I compounded it by adding, "I'm sure you are quite nice." Then I added "You see I'm married...my wife works at the bank...Then I spoke some gibberish hat even I didn't understand.

Finally God had mercy on me and made me realize I was just making matters worse. I stuck out my hand and said "Just give me my change." The lady handed me my change and I drove up to the next window. There I found a window full of workers all laughing at the idiot in the drive through. I am certain I saw a few customers looking also.

I took my number one upsized with Coke and drove away as quickly as possible.

Sometimes, I think that even though she doesn't laugh at most of my writings, my wife has a better sense of humor than me.

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