“Hello! I like your frogs!”
*reads from phone* “I’ll take a 4-count kids meal with a sprite, a cobb salad with avocado lime ranch and a spicy deluxe with pepper jack.”
“Okay, would you like the spicy deluxe meal or just the sandwich?”
*falters. gives his steering wheel a look of disgust and disdain. pulls phone back out* “Okay, I’ll take a 4-Count Kid’s Meal with a Sprite, a Cobb Salad with Avocado Lime Ranch, and a Spicy Deluxe with Pepper Jack.”
“Yes sir, I heard you. You said you wanted a 4-Count Kid’s Meal with a Sprite, a Cobb Salad with Avocado Lime Ranch, and a Spicy Deluxe with Pepper Jack, but did you want that sandwich as a meal, or just the sandwich?”
*Stares blankly ahead in utter shock and disbelief at the incompetence taking his order*
Gingerly, I place my hand into his skull and his head swivels to face me for the first time during the transaction. The face of the man is plastic. His attire is like the glaze on a stale pastry. His suit seems like it would adorn a rack better than on his immaterial form and his rainbow tie is akin to the frogs on the man’s dashboard. Inside his head my suspicions are validated. This is not a human to human interaction. I am only here to push buttons and recite totals. My input doesn’t even compute.
Resigned, if not affirmed, I mumble to myself, “okay, so, just the sandwich,” and then retreat into my role.
“Your total is $16.23 at the window. Have a great day, sir.”
The man speedily makes his getaway, and the sun sets on my small sliver of faith in humanity.