There are times that I wonder if things just happen to me to give me something to write about. It is really like my life is one big chain of weird event that have no apparent reason other than to give me material. Today I went out to lunch shortly after noon and we got stuck in a giant line. I really wanted a bacon cheeseburger so I just stood there patiently.
After five or ten minutes of waiting, an older lady walked up with a stack of paper. "Are you two together?" she asked us and we told her we were. "Okay, I'll start with you then." We were smack dab in the middle of the line of about twenty people and the women in front of us turned around, incredulous. It seemed a nice touch though, that in a fast food place they would send out "Hostess Vicky" to expedite orders to get us all out of there soon. So she asked us what we wanted and we told her our order which she wrote down in lovely wide looping cursive and then, after she had written it all down, she handed the paper to me. Not to the people in the back, not to the cashier. She handed it to me. What the quack was I supposed to do with it?
I guess she was bored and wanted to seem useful? Maybe she was taking a census? When we got to the register, we had to order again, even after handing them the mystery paper, to clarify, and then, of course, they got our order wrong.
I insisted on taking a picture of it to prove that I don't just make up this stuff.