Another Chicago tale.

Same friend that i was staying with.  And this story took place at his house, so i must give you some particulars about his place.

For those of you who live in chicago, he lives in Lincoln Square.  Because I'm an idiot, i constantly told people that i was staying in "lincoln park" (because of the band).  But, i was constantly immediately corrected by nearby friends, as i learned that lincoln park is ALSO a place in chicago which is very much NOT lincoln square.

And his place is super nice.  2 bedrooms and a huge sitting room.  My favorite part is that it has a long hallway that runs through the middle of the place.  And, since my friend is a bit of a "Monica" aka. likes it neat -- the place is both well decorated and immaculately clean.  Which makes the place feel nicer still.  Additionally, they have a small back yard and garage, but now I'm just bragging.

But.  There is a but.  In true chicago, living in the city, style -- my friends primo place is directly next door to a Burger King  . . . . with drive thru.  And while this, as kids, would probably have been fertile ground for all sorts of shenanigans and pranks -- as a man in his 30's, being able to spit and hit the BK has less appeal.  Important to the story, the drive thru ordering microphone and menu sign is directly outside my friend's kitchen window.  The scene is set.

Here i am, sitting in the kitchen.  Eating a sandwich.  When i hear shouting coming from across the parking lot, in the direction of the BK order box.  Now, mind you, when i got to this conversation, there was already shouting, so i missed the lead up.  But, given what i heard, i think i can Sherlock it all together for you.

When i opened the window i saw a man idling in a CRV SUV, with a kid in the back.  He is screaming at the woman on the other end of the microphone ordering mechanism.  From her reaction to his tone, I'm guessing the speaker on that baby doesn't have a volume nob.  (put that one in the suggestion box).

He is screaming, "NO NO NO NO NO.  there is a discrepancy!!! It says something here and then its different there.  THERE IS A DISCREPANCY!"

this goes on for, no exaggeration.  5 minutes.  Enough that i have now called my friend to the window and even have thought to wake his wife up from her nap to watch the ongoing coverage of BK parking lot crazy.  (we didn't, but we should of).   We are also (maybe just me) DYING to know what the discrepancy is that he is talking about.  it seems massive -- his tone makes me think the discrepancy might just be the difference between him making rent this week or not.

Then, he breaks this one off . . .

"Fuck it, ok fuck it! I don't care about the .50 cents anymore . . ."


Let's pause it right there.  50 cents!!!  That whole friggin canipshit was over more money than it took to keep your 17 mile-per gallon road monster idling all that time.  That's makes you an idiot sir.  and it also means that, while berating another human being is never truly an ok thing to do (but come on, when we are getting f'd over, we all make exceptions), in this case -- there really was no warranting it, as it was an obscenely small amount of money.  It also means that its the type of price misprinting discrepancy that the poor woman taking your order at the Burger King drive thru window in the middle of Chicago certainly has no control over.   Short version, it means this guys an ass.

Back to his rant . . . cause it gets awesome.

"Fuck it, ok fuck it! I don't care about the .50 cents anymore . . . just add a Double Whopper meal, an onion rings, and a kids cone."  (i LOVE that at the end of this order always comes "and a kids cone." reminding us that all this assery is happening in front of a child."

BK Woman:  "So you just want the Double Whopper meal, onion rings and a kids cone?"

This is where his brain pops. i swear.  it pops.  he is now shouting at his full volume WHILE striking the top of the front console of his car while getting brick red in the face (remember that we are watching all of this from my friends kitchen window--and sorry for the oncoming caps lock). "NO NO NO NO NO.  ARE YOU AN IDIOT!?!?!" NO NO NO NO NO"


He is interrupted in his rant by the BK woman asking him to "please not scream at her."  He replies, half screaming, that it is hard not to when she is being so difficult.  Totally lack of realization at the irony of his statement.

He continues at a slightly SLIGHTLY softer scream.  "I STILL want the 7 Double Whoppers, (insert a shit ton of food here), and THEN i want the the Double Whopper meal, onion rings and a kids cone?"  


this really puts that 50 cents into additionally crazy perspective considering the massive haul of "fast" (not anymore!) food he is ordering.  7 Double Whoppers?  To feed his army of goats?  (they'll eat anything!)  And then who was like "no no no i don't WANT a double whopper, i want a DOUBLE WHOPPER MEAL!"

All of these questions are racing through my mind as the woman finally tells him to drive up to the window, which is blocked by cars amazingly still waiting for their food.  Amazing considering we've been watching this atrocity for a solid 15 minutes, and i can't imagine how the other orders weren't finishing.  Less surprising is the loooooooong line of car behind the SUV from hell, who are no doubt debating whether or not they should just drive through to another drive thru.

As he pulls forward, he looks right and I'm pretty sure he saw the two of us gaping out the window (we were laughing and shouting at him pretty loudly by that point).  I swear he waved.  Maybe just with one finger, but I'm pretty sure he waved.  He still had to wait anther 10-15 minutes for his order.  We imagined one of two scenarios taking place inside his vehicle.

Scenario 1:  with the threat removed, and his kid in the backseat, he reverts back into his mild mannered self and feels shame and embarrassment.   But, i have to admit, this seems less likely considering the behavior we have just witnessed.

Scernario 2:  Stewing.  Sitting there, anger brimming like a smokey pot stirred by wart-covered witches.  In this scenario i wonder if he starts to ponder all the obscenely grotesque crap they are currently putting his food through.


"Front of the pants or back of the pants" the cook is asking the just screamed at order taker.  "Oh definitely back of the pants," she is replying.  And thats not even getting to the "special sauce and condiments."  You really shouldn't screw with people who both don't give a shit and are making your food.  It's a delicate balance . . . and your shouting just tipped it in the direction of 'boogers' over 'burgers'.  Sorry.  i meant Double Booger Meal.

Bon Appetite assface.   and a kid's cone.