“Here’s your food, Fatty.”

The drive-thru window.  A staple of our culture that spurs the extinction of home cooked meals. The evil foe of fine dining.  Something I would hate to be without!

And when I do use the drive-thru, I usually expect to hear something from the person handing me my food.

“Thank you.”

“Have a nice day!”

“Here’s your food, Fatty.”

“The guy in the kitchen hates you. I wouldn’t eat those chicken tenders if I were you.”

Just some kind of acknowledgement that I have just spent too much money on some really mediocre food that is slowly leading to my demise.

Some things (okay, a lot of things) bother me:

  • Guys who choose the middle urinal and don’t leave a “courtesy space”.
  • The weekly tests from the Emergency Broadcast System. (Have they never heard about “The boy who cried wolf”?)
  • And fast food employees who say absolutely nothing when they hand you your food.

This happens from time to time. I pull up to the window, after having already paid at the first window, and the drive-thru person hands me my food without saying a word. Sometimes they don’t even look at me. They give me my grease splotched bag, I say “Thanks” and look at them for some kind of reply, but they just shut the window. There I sit, staring at the closed window.

Crickets… all I hear are crickets.

Even though this has happened on many occasions, I am still dumbfounded when it happens.  I am, however, going to try and put the best construction as to the reason this happens.

  • Maybe the person is a mime in training.
  • Maybe the person just adopted a crazy, feral cat from the Humane Society, and the cat literally has their tongue!
  • Maybe the person is a monk.
  • Maybe they handed me the food, then died.

All of which seem like lame  valid reasons, don’t you think?