Somebody, or somefactor, had raised hell final evening on the Burger King drive-through. That a lot was clear. The signal that does double-duty as each the menu and the intercom for putting your order had been knocked off its cement and metal pedestal. The plastic defend protecting the signal had been cracked and splintered by the violence of the autumn. No matter thriller drive had laid siege to this hamburger monarch’s citadel may need crippled the subsequent morning’s breakfast operations had it not been for the willpower of the Burger King’s loyal serfs. Armed solely with scotch tape and beige napkins, the morning crew had plastered the shattered stays of the signal with hand-written notes assuring patrons that the drive-through was, regardless of all appearances on the contrary, open for enterprise. Straight away, three questions raced by my thoughts.
How was I presupposed to learn the menu with scores of handmade indicators protecting the each merchandise?
The place precisely on this heaping mess of signage would I discover the intercom in order that I might place my order?
What the fuck had occurred to the signal?
I ought to’ve centered on questions one and two. However my thoughts, which has been recognized to surprise off in wild instructions, particularly within the face of unexplained calamities, selected to meditate on query quantity three. A number of attainable, albeit implausible, explanations emerged.
An Antifa sleeper cell had struck a blow for democracies in every single place by attacking the burger monarchy.
Radiation from an deserted missile web site within the close by Santa Susana Mountains had turned a pack of coyotes into mutant beasts that use their glowing inexperienced eyes and super-charged sense of scent to hunt for blood and burgers within the San Fernando Valley.
In an homage to the East Coast–West Coast hip hop rivalry of the Nineteen Nineties, In & Out and Shake Shack boosters chosen the impartial venue of the Chatsworth Burger King to settle their beef, as soon as and for all, with a Bloodsport-style Kumite.
“Welcome to Burger King! Can I take your order?”
Usually, I’m not one for doing annoying grammar jokes. They’re elitist and boring. However on this case I actually did surprise in the event that they might take my order?
“I’m having hassle studying the menu,” I mentioned.
“Are you able to converse up? I’m having hassle listening to you.”
“I can’t see the menu as a result of it’s coated with napkins,” I shouted.
“Sure, we’ve napkins,” got here the reply.
“I can’t see the menu as a result of… your signal is all tousled!”
“Take your time.”
I sighed. Usually, I order a combo meal by its assigned quantity, but it surely’s not like I’ve the combo numbers memorized, which is why I at all times verify the menu first. However then I considered Christina’s standard order. It’s a breakfast sandwich on a croissant, and it has sausage, I believe, and doubtless cheese, too.
“Can I get a sausage egg and cheese on a croissant, however make it a combo meal?”
“You need two croissants, one with sausage and one with egg and cheese?”
“No, I would like one croissant with sausage, egg, and cheese. And make it a meal, please.”
“Two combo meals?”
“No, one combo meal.”
“Which combo meal would you like?”
“I don’t know the quantity as a result of I can’t learn the signal.”
“That’s OK. Simply inform me what you need.”
I felt like I used to be caught in an Abbott and Costello routine. The issue was I had been forged in Abbott’s position.
Finally, someway, I positioned my order. Then I pulled round to pay, verify the accuracy of the order, and discover out what the hell occurred to the signal. There on the second window, I hoped, I might expertise a drive-through denouement. However as I came upon, life isn’t as thrilling because it appears to be like within the films.
“Hey, can I ask you to substantiate my order?” I requested.
“Certain. It’s a primary.”
Right here we go once more, I believed.
“OK, however what’s in a primary?” I requested.
“It’s a sausage, egg, and cheese croissant with hash browns.”
Holy shit, that Abbott and Costello routine was extra productive than I initially thought. I handed over my bank card. As we waited for the cost to undergo, I introduced up the subject of the fallen signal.
“What occurred to your signal?”
“Your signal. It’s all tousled. What occurred to it?”
“Sure, the wind knocked it over.”
The wind!? That’s all. No Antifa, no mutant coyotes, no unsanctioned martial arts battle for burger supremacy? A wave of disappointment washed over me.
“Oh… I hoped for one thing just a little extra… cinematic,” I mentioned. “The wind is… sort of… fundamental.”
“Sorry, dude. Simply the wind. Right here’s your croissan’wich combo meal.”
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