. . . and any other fast-food chain out there . . .
A lighter note today, although I don't know how light the emotion of irritation is when one is experiencing it.
When I go through a drive-thru at McDonalds, I am typically in a hurry and not in the mood for conversation. I know what I want. I know what I like and I like what I know. I don't need instructions or sales pitches.
Drive-thru speaker: "Hello. Would you like a cappucino today?"
Joel thinks (in noticeably sarcastic tone): "No, if I want a cappucino, I'll tell you when I make my order. As it is, you just forced me to waste breath, energy and time to tell you I don't want one, thereby keeping me from ordering what I really DO want."
Instead, I mutter under my breath, ignore the pitch and make my order. After paying for my order (and nine chances out of ten they mess it up), I drive back to my office in a very foul humor, which doesn't help the process of digestion.
Please. Stop with the sales pitches at the drive-thru. I am capable of reading the menu myself without a Mitch Miller "follow the dancing red ball" routine. You're going to keep on until I just make a sandwich at home and not bother gracing your parking lot with my presence.
While I am at it, I am also sick of answering machines at businesses that take an hour to walk you through a list of options. Just sound the dang beep and let me leave my message, or better yet, have a receptionist answer the stinkin' phone and direct my call where it's supposed to go. You are wasting my precious time and I resent it.
If you'll excuse me now, I'm off to the range so I can let off some steam.