Drive Thru my parlor, said no spider ever.

     I'd like to start off by saying that I work for a living. I say this only because I'm sure someone out there is thinking 'this person has an awful lot to say rather frequently for someone who has a job. What can they possibly do?' Well, I do work, and while I won't say what it is I do, I can assure you that it's a fairly normal job. That involves a drive thru window, which could put it in any number of businesses, and you may eventually narrow it down if you don't already know- but I'm not going to give you any obvious hints.

    The drive thru window was first pioneered in the U.S. in the 1930's (see wikipedia.com under drive-thru), meant to provide customers with a way to avoid leaving their vehicles (or dismounting their bicycles, or leaving their horse-drawn carriages) in order to procure food and beverage. While wikipedia provided a lovely page of information educating me as to the creation and history of the drive thru service, wikihow was the place I discovered the best source of drive-thru etiquette (http://www.wikihow.com/Practice-Drive-Thru-Etiquette). Pay close attention to number 9. This is the one item that possibly infuriates me the most (although the others on the list are ALL VERY VALID and should be followed as best as possible), and is the experience that most soured my morning today.

    But that's not what this blog is for. Thou shalt not complain bitterly about inconsiderate dopes who shall grace thy drive thru. Thou shalt instead wish them a very unpleasant experience where their beverage/fries/cup of hot lava splashes their lap and requires them to spend their day in stained and/or moist pants for their miserable behavior. Karma is a bitch, folks, and Karma is possibly the hard working fast-food minion who handed you that beverage. Learn some manners.

   The drive thru is a lovely convenience. Don't get me wrong- I do love them. I can spend an entire day in my car and never have to get out other than to pee, and if I could pee in the car I probably would (no, I really wouldn't), but darn it I have to instead stop at the shady rest area on the highway and hope I'm not mugged for the five dollars in my Hello Kitty wallet and the really fun chapstick holder I got in my Christmas stocking. So I do appreciate the value and ease that a drive thru presents to me.

   I just don't understand how people don't understand the actual point of it. It's somewhat like an express line at the grocery store. Ten/fourteen/fifteen items or less (although I honestly wonder where they plucked a number like fourteen from. Was there some study showing that ten out of fifteen people see the number fourteen as lucky and will be more apt to check out there?), and I'm cruising out of the store while Dennis the Menace reigns supreme two aisles over and his hapless parent wrangles him through the normal checkout with eight two liters of soda, assorted canned goods, and several bulk boxes of cereal. So it stands to reason that you would utilize the drive thru if you wanted to go quickly, and be on your merry way listening to NPR while you enjoy a fresh donut.
But to order six sandwiches and six drinks and six cups of tap water is to tell the person serving you that all you really are is lazy because you can't get out of your car to go inside and place this obnoxious order, preferring instead to hold up a line of other people who may only want a donut and/or coffee and/or a lovely blueberry muffin.

  While it's normal these days to encounter a majority of people to whom consideration is a foreign concept, the lack of such is still incredibly frustrating and just a little bit sad. Convenience is supposed to be for everyone, but so often is experienced by very few due to the incredible rudeness of others.

   "I took a ladies order one time I'll never forget this I go "Mam, that'll be three seventy five, drive around". And there's like this long pause and she goes... "Where do I go?". Where do you go? You follow the one fucking road you're on to me! Where do you... OK "Mam, you're gonna go to the Texaco station and take a right, go five an a half miles south east and you're gonna see a guy in a yellow Poncho, his name is Hank he'll take you to the Whopper later... That's where you go!" And you've got ten minutes to get there or we take your food!" 
 -Dane Cook