From now on, when one of my orders at a fast-food drive thru is screwed up, I am vowing to turn the car around and either get a refund or cook the sandwich myself. (OK, there are a lot better odds on picking the former.)
I realize those who work at the fast food restaurants are no different than you or me, and that we all make mistakes, but to repeatedly hand me the incorrect items is simply not acceptable. Not any more.
I am a simple man and only want a simple meal. In fact, my order is always the same, at least 99 percent of the time. I order either a plain burger, or a burger with tomato ONLY. That’s it. It’s not tough.
And today here is what happened AGAIN at the drive through:
Steve: "I’d like a No. 4 with tomato ONLY, nothing else on the sandwich. Just tomato. Thank you."
The Voice: "Would you like cheese on that, hon’?"
(I hate being called "hon’," unless it is coming from Angelina Jolie, Ann Coulter or one of Rod Stewart’s ex-wives.)
Steve: "No. Tomato only. Just tomato. Nothing else. Thank you."
(My voice remained pleasant, although I wondered what part of ONLY she did not understand. Kind of like that old Lorrie Morgan song, "What Part Of No Don’t You Understand?")
The Voice: "Please pull around to the second window, hon’ … and we’ll have your order for ya!"
So I slowly drove to the appropriate window, paid by bill and said "thank you" again for the wonderful service I was sure I had received. Hey, it was bright, sunny Friday afternoon and all was well with the world.
At least I thought so.
Normally, I always check the sandwich for errors, but I was so certain everything was fine I drove away in a mild state of giddiness. Work was just a couple of blocks away and I was eagerly awaiting that first bite of a tomato-lined patty of shredded cow flesh.
I pulled into a parking space near the office, reached into the brown paper bag, pulled out my neatly wrapped No. 4 … and when I opened up the wrapper I knew there was trouble. I could tell by the smell.
Sure enough, there were onions, pickles, mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, a used Band-aid and someone’s little finger (OK, just kidding about the last two) … but there was everything on that sandwich EXCEPT a tomato.
I was incensed, but I didn’t have enough time to drive back to the fast-food palace in question, so I grabbed some tissues and napkins and began scraping all the crap off of the sandwich.
I ate the No. 4, but I was not happy. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized this blog needed written. If we all refuse to accept this, just maybe more of these establishments will learn what "tomato only" means, or whatever your own preference is.
And no, we don’t want cheese! And quit asking us!