A comedy over the haunting question "Want fries with that?"
Hi so yah I'm an aspriring NEW author, and please don't give bad ratings. I'm new, I'd just like some advice on reviews and more positive stuff. Thanks for reading!
I can do this. It's only a decision between water and a Pepsi. It's just so hard, though. I mean, I've been TRYING to go on a diet, considering at my weight, it's almost like it's required by now. And so with that thought in mind, I really wanna go with the water, but the cold, icy, cola tasty...ooh, I can't choose! I'm almost in tears here.
The guy at the drive-thru window looks at me impatiently. He sighs loudly, and hangs his head out of the window. "Ma'am," He asks with a southern accent."Are you gonna answer my question or what now?"
Quickly, I glance back at him, coming out of deep concentration to reply to his inquiry. "Yes," I say rapidly. "Sorry, it's a hard decision."
He stares at me dubiously and finally says, "I asked you if you'd like water or a soda. Which is it going to be?"
Oh, right. I haven't come up with an answer yet. Er--I could just go with the water. The plain...water...that tastes funny warm....ooh man, Pepsi isn't plain, it's deliciouso (delicious in Spanish), tastes great warm or cold, (preferably cold, though) and wow. Tough, tough decision. Well, having just said that about plain stuff...
"Er--" I stutter, and finally say, "Pepsi please."
The boy looks relieved. He pushes in buttons on his little machine in there and comes back out. "A sixteen ounce?"
Sixteen ounce? That's a lot of soda...I feel reluctant. And to top that off, I feel like a cheater. I told myself that I wouldn't cave into cravings over fat foods, and now the stupid foods are beating me up again. I'm never gonna win.
"Sixteen ounce?" I ask. "Is that the smallest you have?"
Nodding, the boy adds, "Yes, and the largest is a 24 ounce."
My chin slightly drops. "Twenty four ounces?" I say in surprise. "That's a lot..."
"What is going to be, ma'am?"
"I don't know." I snap back at him, glancing around at my car. "I'm thinking."
The boy is getting on my last nerve as he pesters me every thirty seconds whether or not I have come to a decision. You know what? I'll TELL him if I've made a decision or not!
"Er--" I'm already breaking my diet, I might as well go with the smallest size they have. "Sixteen ounce, please."
A few minutes pass as I watch the employees scrounge around to fill my order of a simple cheeseburger. A minute later, the boys sticks his head of the window. "Excuse me, ma'am," He asks. "Would you like fries with that?"
A question that remains to haunt me.