drive thru lane

The Six Worst Things That Happen at a Drive Thru

Ah, America.  The land of freedom and opportunity, including the opportunity to not even have to pull your fat ass out of your car to acquire your 1,500 calorie bag of grease.  It’s an almost embarrassingly lazy practice – but it is so…damn…convenient.  I indulge the urge to swing through and pick up an unhealthy payload more often than I should; then again, when you see the shitshow of humanity loitering about inside these fast-food joints, you remember it’s the lesser of two evils.  The next time I can eat a meal inside a Taco Bell without a morbidly obese mother of three ADHD-inflicted children engaged in a heated relationship argument with her baby’s daddy on her rhinestone-encrusted iPhone 4 will be the first time.

Although I am well aware that this is perhaps the ultimate definition of first-world problems, there are a handful of things the souls working that window do that make me want to do something like this :

1)  Violating the Natural Order of Things

Look, since the dawn of time, the drive thru has operated the same way :

  • customer pulls to window
  • worker collects money from customer
  • worker hands food to customer
  • the end

Ostensibly put in to place to avoid people driving off with their food without paying, this is the way it has always worked.  Expecting this, we customers have our money out and prepared for the worker when we pull up.

So, when the worker greets you at the window with your beverage in one hand and food in the other, holding them both out of the window in your direction like an inexperienced father looking to pass off a baby on the nearest mother, they are fucking everything up.  I had a handful of money with exact change in my free hand, and now I need to dump it all in the console in a panic to receive your premature offering.  Now you’re getting a $50, asshole.

2)   I can’t predict the future, Luke Slowtyper

I know that you’re going on autopilot the whole day, headset jockey, but you know damn well when you’re asking me “is everything correct on the screen?” that you haven’t even finished entering the order yet.  I’m pretty sure the electronic impulses between your keyboard and this screen twenty feet away are traveling fast enough to assume that you just haven’t pushed the buttons before you asked me.

Further, is it asking too much to have the items on the screen loosely resemble the actual name of the food?  When I order a Nacho Supreme with chicken, and see NH SP C on the screen, I’m going to just have to take a leap of faith that that is in fact what I ordered.  Are you working on a Commodore 64 back there?  Add the missing letters, Vanna.

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3) Dry Fries
I like to think there is a special circle of hell reserved for fast-food workers who pack fries in your order, but no ketchup.  What human being with a soul can put a large fry in a bag, then hand it to someone and not think they will need ketchup with that?  Are these workers some genetically-engineered freaks that eat their fries sans condiments?  Or are they just being inconsiderate dicks?

I think it’s the latter, and I hope they spend their entire next life in a reality devoid of sauces, gravies, and any liquid-based garnish.  Just once I want to storm in to Burger King, find a worker eating on their break, swap all the ketchup from their table, and scream “SEE!  SEE HOW IT FEELS!”

4) “Dddzzyy yohgh gevvik innt?”

In an era where we pump 4k High-Definition television signals into homes from thousands of miles away, it boggles the mind that the audio quality of a closed circuit traversing a length shorter than I can throw a bowling ball is so fucking terrible.  Knowing this, would it kill the workers to perhaps try to enunciate slightly better than 50 Cent on a quaalude?  When you ask them to repeat themselves, they of course will refuse to consider either of the above causalities and tone up the attitude like you’re the one who can’t communicate properly.

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5) No really, you’re right. I’m lying.

Look, mistakes happen.  You’re working in a fast-paced environment.  Well, theoretically.  So when I get the wrong order, I’m polite to the point of apologetic that I had to bring it back to you.

When you question my assertion that it’s wrong, though, the mood changes quickly.  When I say I ordered A, and you gave me B, only for you to swear I ordered B… I need you to really ask yourself if I got out of bed this morning and told myself “You know what?  Today I’m going to go to a McDonald’s drive thru, order something, and despite them getting the order right, I’m going to go back and tell them it was wrong.  I will gain absolutely nothing from this ruse and will only waste several minutes of my time and theirs.  Yes, this is what I will do today.”

6) Loose lids sink… center consoles

It is a completely unforgivable dick move to hand us drinks with the lid not on tight.  Unacceptable.  You know damn well we’re going to take the cup from you holding the sides, and put it in our cupholder.  We will then attempt to lift it out at some point, and a loose lid will pop off, drastically altering the structural integrity of the cup, which now squishes to the shape of a football and ejaculates soda all over my center console.  Take the extra half-second to snap that thing on, fignuts.

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