My problem with fast food

I love the arch
I love the arch

The fourth graveyard that Mary and I visited last Friday was the Bethel Chapel Cemetery. When we pulled into the graveyard, the stone with the arch immediately caught my attention. I have never seen a tombstone like that before. There were a number of other stones that caught our attention as well. Mary wanted me to use a different picture,  but this is my favorite. She can start her own blog if she wants to use a picture of that stone, or I may use it at a later date.

Oh, and Mary noticed that there was a two-seater privy for the patrons on the side of the grounds. The privy was partitioned, with separate doors, so that women and men could have their privacy. We both decided that we could wait until we arrived at the Attica Hotel for lunch before we needed to use the facilities. More about Attica tomorrow.


I don’t often eat fast food. Yesterday was an exception, and it brought back all of the reasons why I dislike using a drive-thru window. And there are multiple reasons.

It usually starts when you pull up behind the car ahead of you where the driver is ordering. I was lucky yesterday because there was only one occupant in that car, so there weren’t multiple orders. Still, the woman ahead of me had obviously never eaten at a Burger King before, because it took her quite some time to order. It could have been worse, I usually get stuck behind a pickup truck where the driver is ordering for an entire construction crew that is back at the work site.

When I pulled up to the speaker to order I had to wait what seemed to be an ungodly amount of time before the girl inside deigned take my order. I knew what I wanted, so I spoke clearly and slowly so that she would get it right. I might as well have rattled it off in Urdu, because I had to repeat the order twice before she understood and entered it correctly into the computer.

Then I pulled forward to pay and to get my order, but that took time because the woman who had ordered ahead of me was still waiting at the window to get her food. I believe she had made it her mission to suck the last vestiges of “fast” out of fast food. I have no idea what she ordered, but it took at least ten minutes after I pulled up before her food was handed out the window to her. I thought that was what the “reserved for pickup” area of the parking lot was for, but I must have misunderstood the intent. She was handed a small bag, about the size to hold one hamburger with nothing on it, and a small drink.

I pulled up to the window, and had the exact amount of money in my hand. I sat there for a while, waiting for the girl to open her window and accept payment. When she opened the window and took my money, she dropped the change out of her hand and onto the floor. So she had to scramble around on the floor, making sure that I had handed her the correct amount, before she opened the cash drawer and printed my receipt. She handed me my food. I didn’t pull away until I had verified that I had the right order. I’ve been through that before.

Finally I was finished with the transaction and started to pull away from the window. That’s when I was almost sideswiped by a pickup truck that was towing a trailer. We both hit the brakes at the same time. He graciously allowed me to move first.

As I was about to pull out onto the four lane street, I paused because I saw two dump trucks coming at me. They appeared to be drag racing. I let them go past before I eased out onto the street. From there the drive home was safe and uneventful.

My French fries were cold.

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