A Day Late and A Dollar Short

I know, I know! I’m a day late, but I’m not a dollar short-at least I don’t think so.  Actually, ‘day late and dollar short’ is a funny saying. I consulted with my friend Urban Dictionary who said it’s “…like if a guy likes you and then another one asks you out before him, you say to the first guy, ‘sorry, day late and a dollar short,’ so basically, you waited and screwed yourself over.” Well, there are no dates getting screwed over in this funny story.  I’m simply a day late because I had a week where there wasn’t much ‘fabulously funny’ going on-until I went to McDonalds.

Let’s be clear. I don’t go to McDonalds.  I spent way too much time there back in the day when a Big Mac, large fries, and a diet coke-because cutting calories helped me feel better about what I was eating-cost $2.02.  But yesterday, while I was on my way home from work, I decided to swing through the drive-thru and pick up a couple of fish sandwiches so that I didn’t have to make something once I got home or go out again later in the evening.  I should have paid more attention to the signs that were all around me-people driving cars in the wrong direction in the parking lot, a tractor-trailer blocking one of the two drive-thru lanes, and the seven cars ahead of me in the only open lane-but I didn’t.  I got in line and told myself it would be worth it in the long run.

When it was finally my turn to order I got so excited I almost drove right past the order box. Once I caught myself and stopped, a sound similar to the adult voice on Charlie Brown came from the box.  I was never a Charlie Brown fan but that’s immaterial.  What is material was the sound, the wa-wa-wa-wa-wa that was similar the sound of a muted trombone.  Since I don’t speak trombone, I assumed I was being asked for my order so I started to give it. “I’ll have two Number 7s,” but I was cut off.  Apparently, Mommy Wa Wa wasn’t ready for me, so I had to wait. After a minute or so and few more wa-wa-was, I again started my order of two Number 7s with unsweet iced teas-because cutting calories helped me feel better about what I was going to eat. My response to her “Wa-wa-want anything else?” question was met with a repeat of the same question.  “No, I don’t wa-wa-want anything else!” I yelled.  I pulled to the first window where I tried to make nice with a little small talk about how busy the place was.  She answered, but it was half-hearted so I knew full well something special was coming my way.  I got my change and moved to window #2.

Behind window #2 was a woman with a Grammy award winning resting bitch face like no other.  She moved like a robot and her eyes stared straight ahead as if Ronald would take away Oscar if she looked elsewhere.  When she was finished with the special preparation of my food, she tore open the shutters, threw up the sash, and handed me the first drink. I didn’t want to ask but I knew I couldn’t hold two drinks, two fish sandwiches, and two orders of fries on my lap for the ride home, so I did. I said, “Could I have a carrier for that?”  Yes, I know.  When she left to go get one, even though there were five stacked right there near the window, something more special was coming my way.  She handed the carrier out her window just far enough making me climb out the window to reach it.  We didn’t exchange pleasantries and I left.

I don’t go to McDonalds, but I did and I shouldn’t have.  I couldn’t enjoy my Lenten fish fry because I kept looking for something special as I ate it and waiting for something to happen after I finished. I shouldn’t have to do that simply because Ronald has a bad speaker system and his workers are expert RBFers because he doesn’t allow them to look elsewhere. The next time I’m on my way home from work, if Ronald likes me and Wendy asks me out before Ronald does, I’ll say to Ronald, “sorry, day late and a dollar short” and I know so.

Thanks for reading and remember to always #sharethelaughter to brighten your day!

Eliza G.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s