Last night, neither my husband or myself felt like cooking. That usually means I am making a stop at the lovely Wendy's up the street. I pulled into the drivethru and checked out the menu board (as if I don't have it memorized, but the employees don't need to think I'm a regular at their fine establishment). A woman's voice came through the speaker asking for my order. I asked her for just a minute so I could see which wonderful menu items I wanted to pollute my body with.
Before I could finish asking her to "please hold", a man's voice interrupted and said "hi, what can I get you, mam?". Now, I don't have the manliest of voices, filled with bass and testosterone, but I don't exactly speak in a falsetto either. I began my order in my apparetly womanly voice. When I requested that they leave the onions off one of the menu items if it did have them, my request was met with, "sure, but it DOESN'T have them anyways!!". Mortified at my apparently audacious and OBVIOUSLY foolish mistake, I finished my order and was told "1st window". When I pulled up, the manager told me the price and informed me "2nd window BOSS".
Now I can deal with "mam"... simple mistake. But boss?! I hate boss. I hate boss, champ, captian and pretty much any false professional title a douchebag labels you to show you just how douchey he truly is. I bit my tongue and pulled up to the 2nd window per my apparent subordinate's request. I thanked the nice lady for my food and stared her down as she looked like she was going to forget my drinks. I then pulled away (after checking the bags - I KNOW how Wendy's likes to do) and arrived home to deliver dinner to the family. What a lovely "wife" I am!
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