|View from the plane as we went over Colorado.|
As I mentioned yesterday, I think I am a magnet for idiots. Over the 28+ hours it took me to get from my home in Las Vegas to the apartment in Rome, I swear they were flying at me like flies to flowers.
|Note the "sold out" toys and "classic" fries.|
"Is it all right if I order the kids meal?" I asked the cashier when it was my turn.
"Of course," she replied. "Which one do you want?"
"We're sold out of kids meals," the lady behind me in line shouted. I turned to see another BK employee standing there.
"How can you be out of kids meals?" I rolled my eyes. The two employees started arguing because they apparently were out of toys, but not food. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Forget it." I walked away.
After the loud mouth left, I went back. "Did you decide whether I could order the kids meal without the toy?" I asked.
"Of course you can," the cashier replied. "You wanted the hamburger, right? Which side?"
"The classic fries," I told her.
"We don't have classic fries," she said.
"You don't have classic fries even though every sign in this place lists classic fries." I rolled my eyes so far that I could have seen out of the back of my head if it were possible.
"No," she insisted.
"Then I'll just have whatever-the-hell-kind of fries you have," I snarked.
|Classic fries are offered as a side|
"The kids meal doesn't come with onions," she informed me. "If you want onions, it will be 19 cents more. Do you want them?"
"I think I just asked for the burger without onions, didn't I?"
"Oh, yeh." No longer at the eye-rolling stage, I shook my head and sighed while she totaled up my huge order. "That will be $7.77," she said to me after she rang it up.
"The sign says '$2.19' for the hamburger meal," I snapped.
"It's expensive here," she laughed. "This is the airport." My glare probably told her I didn't think it was funny. "The side and drink are extra even on kids meals."
"Nowhere does it say that," I insisted. "It says sides and drink are included."
"Oh, no," she insisted back. "They're extra.
(Let me just interject here that I have come to the conclusion that I understand how bar fights in the old west used to get started. Some bartender probably said that the bar was sold out of beer or that the five-cent beer now cost 10 times that much even though the sign said otherwise, and the cowboy who was hot, dusty, and thirsty from a trail ride had enough and went for the bartender's throat. I can totally emphasize with the cowboy.)
I didn't have the strength to hop over the counter and grab the cashier's throat, didn't want to end up in jail for jumping the bar and strangling the woman, and—most importantly—didn't want to miss my flight. I paid the $7.77, grabbed my lunch, and walked the gate area to enjoy the hamburger and un-classic fries which, by the way, hot, perfectly cooked, and looked exactly like the classic fries featured in all of the BK signage.
By the time meal service on the Air Emirates flight started some 11+ hours later, I was starving.
Of course, that's another story for another day