The drive-thru at McDonald’s is like being seized and strapped to a dead rotting body and being cast into the eternal bonds of hell. The order is placed, you pull around to the first window, your money is taken, and once that occurs you are left in purgatory to rot. You can’t leave. Sometimes they have you sandwiched between two cars so you can’t possibly escape even if you wanted to.
Typically in front of me are three minivans with six kids each bouncing around like flees on a mange infested mut. In reality it is a vessel where the Devil keeps his demons under restraint. That minivan is like Pandora’s Box; once opened all the misery of the word escapes, but for the time being the little demons must be fed and they are never satisfied, their orders are always wrong and I must wait in line behind them until every trace of pickle is removed from little Sally’s Happy Meal cheeseburger; catsup only!
All I want is coffee and I’m be good to go.
I wait and wait uttering a silent prayer, change the radio station, and adjust the rearview mirror. The lady behind me thinks I’m checking her out. ‘No, no,’ I say with my eyes. It’s the demon minivans in front of me. She thinks I’m trying to be alluring and says something to her six foot six boy friend next to her who would be driving, but he just got out of prison and has the McNugget shakes that has to be appeased.
Peering ahead I observe what is going on in the first minivan full of demons currently at the window where the orders are passed out. The employee at the window hands at least ten bags of food and four trays of soft drinks. The minivan lunges forward six inches and comes to an abrupt stop. I’m thinking, ‘Ah another soul has yet to be won over to hell.’ The driver gives a somewhat animated appeal and given another bag of food to appeal the demons and save his soul from the clutches of the demonic possession.
The next minivan pulls forward. It is rocking from side to side; the demons are restless, they must be fed. They don’t live off food from McDonald’s, no, they live off the misery they are causing to people like me. I wait. I think about growing older. I think about running in a field of flowers overlooking a pasture of docile sheep and the sea beyond with crested white caps. I adjust the radio hoping for serene and soft music. Suddenly I hear the Charley Daniels Band playing The Devil Came Down to Georgia!
There must be at least five special orders in that minivan and I bet none of them are anywhere close to being right. At last, the minivan moves on, but only after bribing them with a whole sack full of extra fries. Demons love fries.
Finally the van ahead of me is at the window. Only a three of the six demon children are in car seats, but they look worthy of the test. They are in training. The longer they take and the more frustrated they make me the closer they sit to the Devil at the evening meal.
I once read an article about being patient. I didn’t finish it because it was taking to long to get to the point. Isn’t that something they can tell you in the first paragraph. Anyway I think the point of the article was to take the time you are being delayed and use it for something useful.
What can I do stuck behind three car loads of kids that will someday bear the name ‘generation zero.’ They are spoon fed sugar, video games, iPods, iPhones, and I-don’t-want-pickle-on-my-Happy-Meal-cheeseburger. They were born and bred to suck up every last dime of social welfare and social security money that should line the pockets of tax evading Wall Street hedge fund managers and investors. As you can tell I’m at the point of my wait where everything is bad, nothing is good; I hate kitties and puppies now. I’m about to explode. My heart is about to burst from my chest and my eyes have long ago dislodged from their sockets. My mouth is dry, my stomach is cramped, and I got to pee – very badly.
The third demon car leaves. I pull to the window. I smile. I have been freed from the bonds of purgatory!
The window opens. The barley awake McDonald’s dweeb says, “Sir we just put on a fresh pot. Would you mind pulling forward?”