I’ll go ahead and spoil the surprise. This isn’t going to be a positive post. Nor will it be a long one. In fact, I imagine I’ll still have the urge to write once this is done, so tonight may be a two-fer.
Saturday night, after much yard work, the hubster and I venture out for one of my favorite burger joints, Jake’s Hamburgers. If you’ve read previous posts, you might remember that I have a soft spot for their sweet potato fries. Add to that, we’d been at Sonic earlier in the day for a cherry limeade (for me) and hubster mused that a corn dog sounded pretty tasty. Jake’s delivers on all fronts.
Still looking kind of ragged from our day o’ work, we opted for the drive-thru, which only had one car in it when we pulled up. After waiting for a small eternity to actually place our order, we pull up to the window to pay. Once the transaction is complete, we’re told to pull forward…no food in hand. Apparently the kitchen is backed up and they’ll need to walk the food out to us.
Okay, so we scooch the car over and I settle in for a game of sudoku on my cell phone. I figure it will help pass the time and I’ll see if I can beat the puzzle before the food comes out. At this point…I play for time.
One of the employees comes out with a couple of bags and starts going to different vehicles to deliver dinners. Note – it is about 8:45pm at this juncture, so I’m sure most folks waiting there were ready to consume their own body parts, just like we were. I was trying to take solace in the fact that we were order #2. Alas, this would not help much.
Long story short – some other car got our food. Surprise, right? Hungry, inconvenienced people will do many things to quell their grumbly bellies, including making a claim that they are order #2 when they are, in fact, order #5. Except us. When the lady came to our car, we were honest about our order number. In retrospect, we should have just taken what she had in her hand and sped away like we’d stolen something.
As you know, service is my big thing, so this means that Jake’s and I need to take a break. Note, we’re not breaking up permanently. I reserve the right to booty call Jake’s when my urge for sweet potato fries is just so insatiable that nothing else will do. But Jake – you hurt me. *single tear*