I choose to eat like a rabbit throughout the work week, and like a teenage boy on the weekend. That’s just how I roll.
Last night, I had a hankerin’ for a Sonic chili cheese coney. And since I had a 2-4-1 coupon to compliment my urge, we decided to go for it.
*Side note: Rick hates fast food. He doesn’t like Taco Bell, he can’t stand Wendy’s, and he loathes McDonald’s – quite frankly, I’m not even sure how we fell in love in the first place.
Anyhow, we pulled up to the Sonice drive-up menu and I said, “I’ve got the 2-4-1 coupon, what else do you want?”
Rick said, “What – you mean you’re going to eat both of the foot long coney’s yourself?”
“No! I just thought you might like something in addition to your hot dog. Order whatever you want,” I replied.
He shook his head in semi-frustration and pushed the little, red button. Rick ordered our dogs and we waited.
Our total was $4.30 with the coupon – I forgot to tell you that we ordered a $1 small fry, too. Rick started counting out $1’s and asked if I had an extra. I said, “Isn’t the total $4.30?”
“Yea…but aren’t you gonna give the girl a tip?”
“For what?” I said.
Evidently, this was yet another angle of the fast food world that we disagreed upon.
I told Rick that I had no problem tipping a waiter/waitress 20-25% minimum for services rendered at a restaurant or bar. The aforementioned scenario requires time, effort, personality, customer service skills and the ability to produce a sincere, albeit fake, sparkling smile at all times. But I wasn’t so hip on giving some little car hop a 23% bonus for walking my sack of food the 15 foot distance from her kitchen to my car.
Rick called me “rude.”
I called him “a fast food Nazi.”
We went home, ate our dogs, and said “I love you.”