Lemonade! (That cool, refreshing drink)
So I’ve had this thing going on for a while were I drive through the drive-thru at Taco Bell and order myself a tasty *and* nutritious lunch. Like many people, I’m a creature of habit, and I typically order the same thing.
This is the most significant time of the entire order, and I literally have a small knot in my stomach. If you were in the car with me you would agree that you could actually hear a pin drop. Which is pretty amazing, because usually, I’m Eddie-Fuckin-Vedder behind the wheel, and I’ll get all “Temple of the Dog” goin’, “I’m gettin huuungry…yeaahhhhr”. But not now. Not at this crucial juncture of the order process. This, my friends, is crunch time, and I wait for the reply.
Speaker: Number 8, soft-tacos with lava-sauce (I felt a little “spicy” today), and a pink lemonade
[The. Pin. Dropped.]
Now I’m seething, because I didn’t order a PINK lemonade, I ordered a goddamned “lemonade“. Look, I know it’s pink; I realize that’s all they have, but for the love of Pete…Give a man some dignity! But, they don’t – they never do – They *purposely* fuck with me, just because they can. So I punch back. Seriously, like they think I’m gonna get punked at the drive-thru!
Me: “That’s PINK lemonade, right?”
Speaker: “Yeah, pink lemonade.”
Me: “Can I get it with extra pink?”
Speaker: “…um…I don’t think we have that. Do you just want a large?”
Me: “Yes, of course. A large. Just as long as it’s pink. I want a PINK lemonade.”
Speaker: “OK, that’ll be $4 and 38-cents, please pull up to the first window”
[And then I pull up to the window, they ask me if I want any sauce with it, I tell them "Yes, Fire sauce", and they give me 750 little packets of said "Fire Sauce". We exchange money & food, and I drive away, only to be repeated the next time I go through the drive thru]
This little routine has happened more times than I care to count, and I probably wouldn’t say anything about it, but the guy I work with is in on my beef with Bell, and so he pays close attention to whether or not the speaker says “Lemonade” or, as is more often the case, “PINK Lemonade”. And what really pisses me off is that when HE orders, he gets a damned “Lemonade”. Granted, I’m no Barry White, but neither is he. Then again, he doesn’t write for a blog called “FrothyGirlz” either, so I suppose this whole thing isn’t without merit.
Anyway, guys…I realize that neither of you are the types of guys who go to Taco Bell, but does this ever happen to you? I figured when I switched over to drinking Scotch this little pink-problem at Bell would go away, but it hasn’t. I turn the “Death Cab” ALL the way down (I know I said “Eddie-Fuckin-Vedder” earlier, but that’s just ’cause I thought it sounded cool to say it. Although, that being said, I am diggin on that “Just Breathe” tune. Really cool tune. And, if we’re being honest, lately it’s been Led Zeppelin. Good memories. Long stories. Anyway, I promised myself I wouldn’t resort to this lame-ass-cliche’, but I digress…)
I know! The next time I go through the drive-thru, I’m gonna order Scotch first. That oughta send a shot right across the bow. They’ll tell me they don’t have it of course, and then I’ll say [as if I'm put off that they don't have any Scotch, in a grumbly, gruff voice] “Oh, well…then, how ’bout a lemonade?”
I swear…if they ask me if I want a PINK lemonade, I’ll…I’ll…write a post about it or something. I mean it people…do NOT try me on this.