Next Window Please

I worked Graveyard last night and again tonight and I didn't sleep much today. I was thinking of it, but a friend texted me at 4:20 pm and asked if I wanted to hang out. Why not?

On the way home from his place I had a craving for a strawberry milkshake, so I pull into a McDonald's drive thru hoping that on this end of town nobody would recognize me; It could ruin my "True Missoulian" image. We're like that here. Some of us anyway. Years ago I saw our Mayor coming out of a Starbucks that used be downtown but eventually went out of business because locals boycotted it and rallied around the local Break Espresso.

"WHAT!," I said, "Our Mayor at Starbucks?"
"I should have worn my fake nose and glasses," he replied. "Don't tell anyone!"

Which reminds me: While I watching a Seattle Pride Parade years ago, a group of people on a Starbucks float were throwing green T-shirts out to the crowd. The front had the Starbucks logo on it and the back had a pretty rainbow and read, "Seattle Pride!" A local friend I met the night before caught one of them and gave it to me.

"Too big for me," he said. "You should take it."
"No thanks," I said. "I wouldn't wear that around Missoula."
"Why?" he asked. "Is it that bad in Montana? Not a gay friendly place?"
"Oh, no," I said, "It's very gay friendly. I am totally out. Nobody cares if I'm gay, but I would probably get harassed by friends for wearing a Starbucks logo."

And so I'm sneaking through the McDonald's drive thru and pull up to a huge billboard-like menu. I can read the big-print stuff, like "Happy Meals," but even squinting with my glasses on I can barely read the small print.

"Welcome to McDonald's. How can I help you," a pleasant voice from a box says.
"Hey, I'm sorry, but I am having difficulty seeing the menu. Do you sell strawberry milkshakes?"
"Yes, we do," she says.
"How much are they?"
"Let me check . . . $3.70 for a large."
"I'll take it," I say.
"Will that be all Sir?"
"Yes, that will all thanks."
"Okay, just pull around to the first window to pay."
"Cool, see you at the window."

When I get to the first window she repeats the price, I give her my money, she gives me my change, and says, "Thank you. You can pick it up at the next window."
"Thanks," I say, and I get ready to mosey forward.
"Do you want that with a meal?" she asks.
I stop. "Uh, no thank you, I just wanted the milkshake."
She looks at me and smiles and politely waves her hand towards the next window, clearly meaning, "please move on now."
"Thanks," I say. "Have a good night."
"Sorry. Do you want that with a meal?" she asks again.

Huh?

I stop again. "No thanks, I just wanted the milkshake."
She looks at me, her nice smile seemingly fading.
She removes a headset from her ears.

"Excuse me sir? What did you say?"
"I just wanted the milkshake," I repeat.
"Yes," shes says. "You can pick that up at the other window."
"But you asked me if I wanted it with a meal, and I don't, thanks."
"I was talking to the next custumor Sir."

Oh.

I wonder what she'd write about me if she had a "The Drive Through: Working the McDonald's Windows" blog? 

I might think about that while I'm working tonight; It might help tame my impatient-fed temper that's been building up lately.

"Would you like to add another hot dog and fountain drink and get our special?" I ask.
"Huh," I just wanted the beer and cigarettes dude."
"Oh, sorry, I was talking to the guy in line behind you."
"Oh, cool. Have a good night."
"Thanks. You have a great night!"