Anyone have a shot of Wild Turkey and a Quaalude I can borrow?
They Fuck You at the Drive-Through.
I know that immigrants, legal or not, are here to stay, and they need gainful employment almost immediately upon arrival. The first avenue towards consistent income is as a day laborer. The second and more frequent avenue is the Minimum Wage Job. Employee at a fast food restaurant is one of the more sought after ones, from what I gather, as I haven't dealt with a drive-through employee yet with a European Surname. I know you have to work to eat, and you have to eat the day you get here, but I still get pissed off when someone in a service industry operation can't communicate with me in English.
Adelicia on the other side of this damned speaker box: Jess, can I hhhelp you?
Me: I'd like a Big n Tasty combo with no tomatoes and a Dr. Pepper.
Adelicia: Ju wan esstra Mayo?
Me: No. I want a Big n Tasty with no tomatoes.
Adelicia: Beeg n Tasty weeth esstra Mayo. Ju wan anything else?
Me: NO, DAMN YOUR EYES....QUISIERA UN BIGNTASTY SIN LOS TOMATES!!! WITH A DR. PEPPER!
Adelicia: Ohhhh. OK. Ju wan fries?
Me: (sobbing) I ordered the freaking combo....All I want is a combo...I don't care what combo it is right now....Please....Just fill a bag with something, dump a drink in my lap, and take all my money.....
The condiment Nazis work at the drive-through.
In a simpler, gentler time, when you ordered a meal at the drive through they gave you things. Like ketchup, salt and pepper, napkins, a fork sometimes, and even a mint (Sonic, my life for yooooou!). You know. Little things a person could want or use with their meal. Then, through the Nineties, when corporate Darwinism really went into overdrive, Someone figured out, actually put hard numbers on paper, I bet, that if you ask each customer if they need any extras, they will tell you exactly what they need and the company saves hundreds of thousands of dollars, probably even millions, on all the condiments and extras that used to be given away but not used. This makes sense. This...Is good. This....Is not what is happening anymore. Now, after the turn of the Century, and after even more Corporate Darwinism, Nine times out of ten...No, make that five times out of five, as I had to roll through a drive through for lunch every single time last week, the condiment Nazis at the drive through hand you your order in a bag without even so much as a straw for your soda. You have to expressly tell them everything that you need. I just know assholes in Brooks Brothers suits on all these corporate campuses had a meeting on this. "Condiments and Extras: The Final Solution". This is five different days, five different drive-throughs, five different acts of sodomy by jack-booted minions in muted colored polo shirts, cloth visors and headsets. And, yes. Each and every time I slapped my forehead and screamed "Doh" after getting more than twenty five meters away from the restaurant, for not asking for the extras while I was at the window...
As I had a really long, complicated, and involved week, keeping me from my journal, Yes. Oh, Yes. I am just getting started...
I, however, need to see a man about a horse. I'll see you in a few...
I know that immigrants, legal or not, are here to stay, and they need gainful employment almost immediately upon arrival. The first avenue towards consistent income is as a day laborer. The second and more frequent avenue is the Minimum Wage Job. Employee at a fast food restaurant is one of the more sought after ones, from what I gather, as I haven't dealt with a drive-through employee yet with a European Surname. I know you have to work to eat, and you have to eat the day you get here, but I still get pissed off when someone in a service industry operation can't communicate with me in English.
Adelicia on the other side of this damned speaker box: Jess, can I hhhelp you?
Me: I'd like a Big n Tasty combo with no tomatoes and a Dr. Pepper.
Adelicia: Ju wan esstra Mayo?
Me: No. I want a Big n Tasty with no tomatoes.
Adelicia: Beeg n Tasty weeth esstra Mayo. Ju wan anything else?
Me: NO, DAMN YOUR EYES....QUISIERA UN BIGNTASTY SIN LOS TOMATES!!! WITH A DR. PEPPER!
Adelicia: Ohhhh. OK. Ju wan fries?
Me: (sobbing) I ordered the freaking combo....All I want is a combo...I don't care what combo it is right now....Please....Just fill a bag with something, dump a drink in my lap, and take all my money.....
The condiment Nazis work at the drive-through.
In a simpler, gentler time, when you ordered a meal at the drive through they gave you things. Like ketchup, salt and pepper, napkins, a fork sometimes, and even a mint (Sonic, my life for yooooou!). You know. Little things a person could want or use with their meal. Then, through the Nineties, when corporate Darwinism really went into overdrive, Someone figured out, actually put hard numbers on paper, I bet, that if you ask each customer if they need any extras, they will tell you exactly what they need and the company saves hundreds of thousands of dollars, probably even millions, on all the condiments and extras that used to be given away but not used. This makes sense. This...Is good. This....Is not what is happening anymore. Now, after the turn of the Century, and after even more Corporate Darwinism, Nine times out of ten...No, make that five times out of five, as I had to roll through a drive through for lunch every single time last week, the condiment Nazis at the drive through hand you your order in a bag without even so much as a straw for your soda. You have to expressly tell them everything that you need. I just know assholes in Brooks Brothers suits on all these corporate campuses had a meeting on this. "Condiments and Extras: The Final Solution". This is five different days, five different drive-throughs, five different acts of sodomy by jack-booted minions in muted colored polo shirts, cloth visors and headsets. And, yes. Each and every time I slapped my forehead and screamed "Doh" after getting more than twenty five meters away from the restaurant, for not asking for the extras while I was at the window...
As I had a really long, complicated, and involved week, keeping me from my journal, Yes. Oh, Yes. I am just getting started...
I, however, need to see a man about a horse. I'll see you in a few...
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