Can I take your order?

I have lost all sympathy for anyone who orders fast food. Not the fact that it can be unhealthy or that sort of thing. Its the lack of structure in the format. We set ourselves up for the torture which is about to ensue us. Some are good, but on a recent trip to one place I noticed several things askew that set a fast food restaurant apart from any other place in the known universe. First, its midday and time for lunch. Like most people I am on a half hour lunch break. Since there were 37 cars in line at the drive-thru I decide to order inside. Big mistake. Although I see no less than four cash registers, there is only one girl barely seventeen working there. Mind you, there are 264 of us standing in line. You'd think they would open another register. Nope. But, much to my chagrin, I count 11 people walking back and forth behind the counter. Now, there is one person working the drive-thru, two people filling orders, and four people making food. By my count, there could be three more people to open the other registers. Nope. Just keep everyone here waiting. Well, ok, the line is moving quickly. In front of me is a man of about 117 years old. As he approaches the register, he looks up at the menu to decide what he wants to order. Motherfucker! There were 262 people in front of you and you are deciding now! To make matters worse, he looks at the menu on the left to make his decision. Nothing there seems to peak his interest. So he decides to look at the menu on the right. Have you ever seen anyone do this? Like there are two different menus! ASSHOLE! ITS THE SAME MENU ON BOTH SIDES! After thinking it over for what seems like 125 years, he places his order.

"I'll have a cheeseburger with no pickles and no onions and a coffee please."

Ah, the old person lunch. A hot sandwich and a hot cup of coffee. I'm told it was much cooler back in the 30s so I suppose he needs to warm up (anyone, anyone). So he pays and steps to the side. Finally, my turn. Just then one of the available three opens the register next to me. You know, because there is one person left in line behind me and we can't make her wait. They bring the food for the old man man as I begin to place my order.

Me: "I'd like..."

Him: "Excuse me, this isn't what I ordered."

Girl: "I'm sorry sir, what did you order?" (really, you don't remember)

Him: "I wanted a cheeseburger."

Her: "That is a cheeseburger sir." (yeah, motherfucker, now take your cheeseburger and go!)

Him: "No, I asked for no pickles and no onions. This has pickles on it." (Take the pickles off, you'll live and if you die, I can finally get my food)

Her: "I'm sorry sir, I'll have another one made for you." (finally, my turn again)

Me: "I'd like a..."

Him: "Excuse me, miss, did I order a pie? I wanted a pie." (MOTHERFUCKER!)

Her: "I can get one for you sir after I take this gentleman's order." (good girl)

Me: (rapidly) "I'd like a number four and a coke to go." (take that old man)

Her: "I'm sorry, it's going to be a five to seven minute wait on the chicken." (of course it is)

So, the line is gone. Old man sonofabitch has his old man lunch. And, after five to seven minutes, I get my food. I take my food to my car so I can eat it on the ride back to work wondering if the drive-thru line would have been any better. It surely couldn't have been any worse. Outside, there is a guy hosing down the pavement. Another guy is bringing trash to a dumpster. And a girl, obviously on her break, is smoking and chatting on the phone. Three more people that could've helped out in there. I walked away unhappy. Not with them but with myself. Like I said, we subject ourselves to this. And, as I got in my car, one thought kept gnawing at me....

...did I order a pie? I wanted a pie.