What I’ll always remember about the Obama Inauguration…
Posted: January 21, 2009 at 3:36
So I went to Burger King yesterday to get lunch. There was a huge line. Seriously, there must have been more than forty people in front of me. Now, I know a lot of people say that fast food lines feel like forever, but this one did. The worst part was, I was in the back of the line for the entire time. Aside from the one old guy who stood behind me for a while before he left in a huff, not a single other person showed up, meaning that I’d gotten there at the absolute worst possible time.
Now, I came to the Burger King knowing exactly what I wanted. I wanted an Angry Whopper. Yeah, the commercials suck, but I have absolutely no respect for my body and I will glady scarf every disgusting fast food item that comes out (the Wendy’s Baconator is a personal favorite). You’d think that after waiting forever in line, everyone else would know exactly what they wanted to order too. I mean, there’s only so many things you can look at and think about when you’re surrounded by the smell of grease and the sight and sound of people eating.
But this guy in front of me? No way. He’s the jackass who gets up to the counter, starts picking things off the dollar menu one by one, asks the poor cashier if things are good, and when he finally gets his food, sends half of it back because he forgot to mention that he’s allergic to onions.
Now, while all of this is going on, the manager has been walking a new guy around behind the counter. Seeing as the cashier is completely exhausted and at wits end with the other guy, he pulls her off the register and tells the new kid to take my order. I don’t mean this is a bad way or anything, but the kid was kind of slow. I don’t have any problem with that and, honestly, I just wanted my food so nothing could have made me care about anything else at that point.
Finally, I step up to counter. I’m the only person left in the line, and it’s this kid’s first time ever ringing up a customer, but all he has to do it push a button. So I make it easy and just say “I’d like an Angry Whopper.”
The kid looks confused. He glances at the manager, who nods in approval, then grabs a burger, spits on it and throws it in my face.
What, exactly, was the point of this post? Was it supposed to be a joke? I’m confused and pissed off for actually spending the time reading it. On par with Kip Starlauncher’s blog.