Technological Advancement Brings “Fast Food” To A Crawl

As I saw it, the simple choice would have been to drive off. Two double-cheesebugers (ketchup only) and a large Dr. Pepper took twenty minutes. The immediate unfortunate aspect of this saga was the curb to the right of my car thus slotting us all into the drive-thru lane devoid of a true escape plan which didn’t risk dropping the entire exhaust system.
When I finally reached the first window to pay I was met by a young lady who was there for all other reasons then to service any customers including myself. Another employee was sitting on the window sill chatting away with the cashier causing her to prioritize between the monumental task of making the cash transactions and deciding whether to got to “Dash’s” party that night. Now I don’t know this Dash guy but I’m thinking if he’s hanging with these highly motivated ladies then I gathered he’s not much of an inspirational figure himself.
I handed my money to “Geena” who pulled her hand back just shy of accepting my five dollar bill to answer a call on her cell phone. She immediately began shouting in the phone followed by hysterical laughter. My first thought was that Dash was on the other line asking Geena to attend his party that night and that it should be a blast because his mother would not bother them in the basement. Since I had even more time I took a moment to picture Dash. I had him at 20-25 years in age, baseball cap backward, living at home conjuring up more rants about how the system was holding him back.
In the meantime, Geena holds up a hand to graciously let me know she’ll be with me in just a sec. I’m giddy with anticipation by the fact that she has acknowledged me and I’m that much closer to my cold cheeseburgers. My heart skips as she enters into closing phone call speak. As Geena pulled the phone from her ear to end the call she had a last thought that became another minute of conversation. In my frustration I wadded the five dollar bill and toss it in the window and pull forward. Geena ended her phone call as I’m between the first and second windows prompting her to now converse at me. “Well excuse the hell out of me, mister.” Classy!
My arrival at the “food-receiveing window” doesn’t rekindle my spirits. The only person I see is dancing in front of the ice cream machine wearing an ipod. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she had not answered an ad to work at this establishment because they were looking to hire dancers. Finally a second person walked near the window glancing at me and then turned his attention toward the dancer. His attention span was miniscule as noted by the time it took him to glance at me, check out the dancer and ending with him pulling out his cell and texting someone, Dash I assumed, I don’t know.
I’m still unable to pull forward because the car in front of me must have also requested a special order, maybe something as challenging as actually cooking their order. They pulled up waiting for their long-anticipated feast but not far enough for me to speed off. As my blood is boiling at this point I’m finally greeted by a young lady who is wearing a headset which I gather is part of the highly intricate system of drive-thru management. How silly of me though to think someone in this fine establishment would be service-oriented. The headset was attached to her cell phone and I could see now that completing the process of filling my cup with Dr. Pepper was intruding on her call.
At last my food and drink have been handed over and I’ve been requested by the server to “have a good one.” I would have rather had my food on time then now be under the pressure of “having a good one.” Between the restaurant and my three minute drive home I have calmed down somewhat and am ready to gorge. I open the bag to “no straw,” “no napkins,” and the wrong color of yellow peaking through the wrapper of my cheeseburgers. There is the yellow of cheese and the cringing yellow of mustard. My burgers are mustard-packed and cannot be consumed because of my particular tastes but yet well within the range of acceptability at that restaurant. I can’t do the mustard. I toss the food, grab a beer and some chips and reminisce the old days when I got change back from my dollar.
Why any employee would find it appropriate to carry themselves in such a fashion is beyond me. The term “fast-food” needs to be tossed from our vocabulary. This is far from the first incident of rotten service from the QSR industry that is rampant everywhere these days. I’m sure this line of work is not met with a vast amount of rewards other then low pay and discount food but regardless there is a responsibility to perform no matter what level of work you are hired to perform. My sense is that the bad service is due to the fact that we had the nerve to show up and expect them to srevice us. Somehow it has become up to us to be patient and understand that they will get to us when they are done with their call, text, or dancing.
Can I really blame the advancement of technology for the drop off in “fast food” service? I wanted to in the worst way but it seemed so broad and I figured people would think I was too worked up about something so insignificant. I went the easy route instead. I blamed Dash.

I Have Returned

After a long hiatus I have risen from the swirl and put my stake back in the ground. Though out of the picture for some time, I was certainly not out of the game.  I have stated so may times that I feel one of my purposes in life was to witness and report the vast array of absurdities which make up our world lest I keep them in my head and not allow others to respond. I feel the need to broadcast such things because I think its important to all of us to be able to stand upon our soapbox and spew out to the world that there is some pretty bizarre shit out their and I need to say something without fear of censorship or dipping my foot into the trap of political correctness.

There is nothing wrong with people having the opportunity to express or question something that teeters on what is labeled insensitive if it is done so in the name of clarity and understanding. There is so much out there that we don’t understand and to have a platform for others to throw in their two cents worth in search of an explanation to their own curiosities, well that is what is offered hear.  All are welcome…No one opinion stands in judgement. But keep in mind…No one is safe from another person’s opinion…

Please feel free to throw it out there…What is it that seems so bizarre or screwed up in this world that you are seeking some level of understanding..

Let’s roll….

The Beginning of the End of the Beginning

I often wonder if Socrates, Vlad The Impaler, Corwallis, Abe Lincoln, or Calvin Coolidge, among a cast of thousands of others surmised each time a thunderstorm, tornado or blizzard occurred that it was surely a sign of the end times. I find it lacking in original thought or rather imformed thought that people are so ready to write things off to the end times. 

Battles break out in the Gaza Region and people race to find the prophecy that fits neatly into their end-time assumption rather then a bunch of idiots fighting over a cause that lost its luster oh so many years ago and feels more like a modern version of the Hatfield and McCoy’s… Why is it that any time a dynamic leader hits the scene that he is certainly the antichrist (little horn) hear to lead us toward the dark times.

I get that there will be an end and I’m certain that it falls somewhere in line with biblical prophecy, but for us to think that we can spot the beginning based on a bad storm or by the musings of a particular leader is both ludicrous and arrogant. 

Here is the best way to know when the end times have hit…You are either in a world where there is an endless beer tap or sitting in a bar where they’ve run out of beer and liquor and the Cubs just blew a 12-run lead in the 9th inning of game seven of the World Series and you have to watch that same game for eternity.

Goodnight, sleep well.

Please Help Me Understand: Buffets

After much apprehension I caved to the wishes of my daughters, jumped into the car and headed to a local restaurant providing only the opportunity of dining off the buffet. As one who from time to time spends a fair amount of time in oblivion, it was my daughters who pointed out the interesting and yet mind-boggling  food gathering techniques of so many. The word buffet has never meant anything to me but “all you can eat’ except for the time my mother told me not to climb on the buffet which in all other cases had always been called a serving table. Anyway, what my daughters pointed out to me was the volume of food many of the diners balanced on their plates.

I took a moment and glanced around the dining area and noticed first just how true it is that we Americans eat far more then necessary but also that there were stacks of empty plates at the edge of each table thus shooting down my question of whether the word “buffet” had changed and you merely received one plate and you better make it count. I just can’t imagine why anyone feels the need to stack their plate nearly six inches high when there is no sentry on duty monitoring plate quantity per person. I’m pretty sure that “Chef Ed” has another pan of micro-waved Thai Chicken on its way out shortly. 

As I looked around I could see a family routine where all but one of the family members ate during a wave of gorging while the one kept his eye on particular items lest the pan become empty thus causing the possibility of once again waiting for “Chef Ed” to come through for them. My daughters sat “jaw-dropped” while taking in the sights of diners racing from all ends of the dining room ready to pounce on the new basket of yeast rolls. I looked back to see that many of the tables had already been hoarding rolls as if they we a measure of  the class structure within the restaurant.  

I couldn’t get through a second plate and I’ve been known to put away a few calories. I don’t know that I can go back there because it flat out seemed to be some type of sad statement about us that I just can’t put my finger on. I found out later on that each of the chairs is reinforced with metal plates to keep the chairs from collapsing…WOW!

Please Help Me To Understand

Please help me understand why when good things happen to us its “God’s Will” and when bad things happen its “Free Will.”  Seems to me that based on that line of thinking then it would be best to sit and make no decisions and wait for something good to happen. However, I have made the choice to sit and do nothing but wait and therefore nothing much good will come from it so I guess that in a very simplistic way proves the point.

I’m heading to the fridge to see if there is any beer left. I guess the decision to go to the fridge has no real meaningful benefit in itself so that would be more in the ballpark of Free Will though nothing bad will happen on the way I’m sure. Now, if there is beer in there then I guess that was “God’s Will” to have that in there and if I’m out then it was “Free Will” that caused it because I drank that last damn beer.

Glad I purged that one out of my head.

Please Help Me To Understand

Please Help Me To Understand Series: Please help me to understand how it comes to be that in every major sporting event, (Super Bowl, World Series, Olympics, etc) that each athlete featured has a tragic background. It never fails when you tune into the 38 hours of Super Bowl pre-game or pre-event Olympic that the star running back or the discus thrower grew up living with the fact that his aunt’s-sister’s-brother’s-mother’s-grocer’s-pet walker’s-brother’s-plumber was lost in a tragic accident and the athlete rose from that experience driving him to hone his talent. Now I’m not being insensitive to the tragedies of life but rather that I’m amazed that an entire 53-man football team can be made up of athletes all rooted in tragedy. If my team is in the playoff hunt, I would give serious consideration as the general manager at reviewing the life-tragedies of each player and consider whether its enough to be featured during a championship game. If not, its time to trade before the deadline or surf the waiver-wire for someone with tougher circumstances. Call me a cynic, but I would prefer the broadcasts start about five minutes before the event so that the game can be without observations of a touchdown being scored because the wide receiver was driven his whole career because his mom had broke his favorite milk glass when he was in first grade. Good day all.

HELLO WORLD

This site is here to let all of you point out the absurdities of the world. Your observations are welcome….