My mom stayed with my sister for a week or so recently. It had something to do with workmen being there while my sister was at work, and her not wanting to leave them to their devices unsupervised. My mom doesn't really like staying at my sister's very much. That might have something to do with the two Chihuahuas that have the run of the place. One of the dogs is named Gracie, and she is quite sweet and is now, after several years, finally housebroken. She is a golden colored long-haired Chihuahua and is of the larger variety. The other dog is a new addition, and she's a pipsqueak.
The pipsqueak is tiny and ugly as hell, a short-haired little nightmare of mottled horror, like something out of that old TV movie Trilogy of Terror. After about a week Mom had had enough. Since she didn't have her car with her, I was assigned to drive her the 200 miles back to her house.
After I picked her up I told her I'd have to stop for gas. I pulled into a station with a fast food burger place attached. After pumping my tank full, my mom announced she need an iced coffee. I left the pumps behind and drove straight into the burger drive-thru lane. After ordering the large iced coffee for Mom, I pulled around to the pick-up window. As I was getting ready to pay the two dollars plus government extortion fee, Mom made another request. "Get me one of those little hamburgers too, I'm hungry."
"Mom, there are cars behind us, and they don't have the burgers made up, they make them to order. Why didn't you mention this when I was ordering?"
Mom's expression was suddenly the epitome of pitiful. "I guess I can wait if I have to," she said quietly.
Naturally when we pulled away from the drive-thru with only the iced coffee, I had a cloud of guilt hanging over my head. But a sudden inspiration struck me. On the other side of the highway was a Burger King! I detoured over to the King, pulled up to the order menu and Mom was happy to ask for just the dollar Whopper jr. I was ready to open my mouth and tell the faceless speaker this when Mom spoke again.
"Tell them lots of extra onions, lettuce, and tomatoes!"
"Mom, it's a one dollar burger. You can't expect them to load it up with a bunch of extras."
"Then I don't want it. It's no good without all that and besides I like to make it nutritious."
"That doesn't make it nutritious!"
"Well, I like to feel that it does," said Mom.
For Mom it's always about how something feels rather than how something actually is.
Well, when Mom finally pulled that special order burger out of the bag as we drove off I was surprised to see it was piled high with several tomatoes and tons of lettuce. And also relieved that I wasn't charged extra for all that added rabbit food. It was a hamburger that really looked like the ones in the advertisements.
"Well, how is it?" I asked her as I got on the on ramp and accelerated onto the freeway.
"No onions," she replied.
Here are the words to that classic Burger King jingle:
Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce. Special orders don't upset us. All we ask is that you let us serve it your way! Have it your way! Have it your way! Have it your way at Burger King!
I guess it's still true! Well, except for those missing onions.
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