11 months ago
Friday, January 23, 2009
"I'll Have a Mc Muffin Please...Minus the Ridicule"
One Sunday morning I awoke and decided I wanted something greasy for breakfast. I conferred with my wife about such a proposition. She agreed that it was a good idea, so I jumped into her SUV and drove toward the local McDonald’s. Instantly, I was annoyed by the mess within the SUV, but remembered she has two kids to deal with all day, and besides this was the only vehicle in the garage with enough gas to make it to that greasy deliciousness.
The night before I had drank an adequate amount of beer, so I wasn’t feeling so chipper. As I drove closer to the McDonald’s I became even more eager to get my hands on the damn Mc Muffin, hoping it would alleviate the pounding sensation in my head. “I will never drink that much again,” I reiterated to myself…again.
Sitting at the stop-light I thought of all the stupid crap suburban life brings. “Wonder how my 401K is doing this month? I need to fix that freakin broken screen door the stupid ass dog scratched to shit. I gotta remember to install new batteries in the smoke alarms…soon. How can I save enough money to go to Hawaii with the wife, alone.” The light turns green…my minds descends back to the breakfast…sweet, sweet breakfast!
As I drove up to the McDonald’s menu to order, I struggled to remember what my wife wanted. I couldn’t remember what the hell she said. An egg Mc Muffin? A Sausage Mc Muffin with Egg. I think that Yo Gabba Gabba show was distracting me! The stupid green monster with the noddle arms whacks me out! I ordered more than we needed and assured myself that I would eat anything she didn’t want.
The high-school kid came over the intercom in an annoyed manner. “Can I take your order?” I replied, “Ya…I’ll take 1 egg Mc Muffin, 2 Sausage Mc Muffins, with egg, 1 pancake breakfast, three orange juices, and 3 hash browns…and four asprin.” “We don’t have asprin…sir. That will be $10.22 at the first window. He said.
I quickly drove around the corner anticipating the wonderful creations only McDonald’s can accomplish to drown out a big-time hang-over. I got to the window, and gave the kid 11 bucks. As he gave me my change, he looked at me, gave me a sly wink and a smile and quickly walked toward the kitchen.
I wondered what the problem was. Did I have a booger in my nose, hanging in the breeze? No, I checked before I left the house. Did he think I was a dumb-ass for wearing my hat backwards at the tender age of 34? Screw that punk if that’s the case. Was it the two car seats in the back? Again, screw that punk if he doesn’t like kids.
I drove to the pick-up window and was handed my breakfast by a giggling young teenage girl. I couldn’t figure out what the hell these kids were laughing at. I quickly scanned the vehicle. As she slowly walked toward me with three orange juices my eyes caught the reason these kids were laughing at me, the reason my existence was so funny, the reason my vehicle welcomed such ridicule…the porn star endorsed bondage tape on the passenger seat!
The messed up thing is this; the bondage tape was not even mine! It was for some customer! Someone I know sells this shit, and that someone owns the SUV. Why didn’t my truck have gas?
Yes my wifey is a Slumber Parties Consultant. I’m proud of her, and she does so tastefully, but I just wish she woulda put the item in a bag on that particular day.