my life in the drive thru

Due to the inordinate amount of time I spend in drive thru lines for such Life Sustaining Necessities as … oooh say … coffee … I should really expect, and generally tolerate, the fact that there are bound to be a reasonable amount of hiccups in the process.


All that Pretend Nice Stuff being said, I would like to officially go on record as being semi-perturbed and a freckle-past-a-bit annoyed.  As my Congressman has asked that I cease and desist with the so-called frivolous correspondence he has received from me on the whole Drive Thru Debacle, I’ve got no where else to go.

Wow.  Shades of Richard Gere in ‘An Officer and a Gentlemen’. 

Did y’all catch that?

‘Sir, I’ve got no where else to go!’


Y’all know I’m kidding on the ‘cease and desist’ thing, right?

Just checking.


So.  Every morning I take a buzz through the Tim Horton’s drive thru and order the exact same cup of java as every other day.  And every day I get a rundown of the entire right-hand side of the menu.

‘Would you like a Western Breakfast Omelet today?’

No thanks.

‘Would you like to try our new blueberry-glazed wad of
purple sugar we have dubbed a donut?’

Umm.  No thanks.

‘Would you …’


Okay.  Y’all know I’m actually only thinking all this because I’m afraid if I say something all mean and nasty-like I’ll get some Really Bad Coffee.

If y’all know what I mean. 

It behooves me to let them ramble while I silently seethe and ponder all the ways in which my caffeine addiction robs me of any semblance of a normal life.

Today, in lieu of having forethought to pack a lunch, I also ventured out to Arby’s. 
I call it The Day of Living Dangerously.

I pull into the drive thru and off to my left, spiked into the ground next to the menu is a little sign:


I am so not kidding.

I thought a long time about it.  Because, well folks, I have a tendency to ruminate on the dumbest things.  But.  Honestly?  I couldn’t bring up the name of a single person I know who would connect the dots that they would 1) need a bag of ice and 2) decide Arby’s is Thee Place to go for it.

Even more puzzling.  I wondered who came up with that whole
Ball of Stupid in the first place.

I was thisclose to asking if the Bag of Ice came in a combo meal with vodka and aspirin.  But I didn’t.  Because I’ve heard THE STORIES about what happens to the food of Smart Alecs in the Drive Thru.

So I order my sandwich and pull up to the window like the Good Compliant Consumer that I am.  As the Arby’s employee leans out the window to hand me the bag, I inquire as to whether there’s sauce in the bag.

I mean, really.  In the big scheme of things, I don’t ask for awfully much.  Just a little quiet time and a packet o’barbeque sauce.

She says ‘No’. 

And stands there clutching my bag.

Pause.  More standing.  

Yes.  I have just entered into a game of Drive Thru Window Chicken.  The first person that blinks, loses.  Okay.  So she’s told me ‘no sauce in the bag’.  And she’s not making any moves like she’s going to put any there anytime in the near future.


Must be my move.  Eventually.  I blink.

‘Can I please have some sauce?’

As I’m driving back to the office, it hits me.  I have just met the employee who dreamed up the Arby’s Bag of Ice for $1.00 Campaign.

She had to be.  It would scare me to think that could be two such silly people working in one place.