Examining the Crazy

I haven’t posted for a while. For that, Dear Reader, I am sorry. I have been doing this annoying thing called working. It’s really starting to infringe on my Me Time. I can’t even sleep until 10am and watch movies in the middle of the day! I mean, what the HELL, right?  

So anyway, amidst all this indentured servitude I had a realization as of late. I eat on the run a lot since I’m a sales rep. And I haven’t had much time to prepare meals for myself so I have been frequenting ye ol’ fast food joints (If my mother heard this, she would have just launched into a lecture about nutrition; I am thankful she’s too computer illiterate to read this blog.). So I’ve had some experiences regarding the juxtaposition between company cultures of two that have become my recent staples. And yes, GOD, that was such a work report sentence. I told you I’ve been working a lot. If I start signing my blogs with, “Teamwork makes the dream work!” please get a gun. 

Anyway, I’ve noticed some fundamental differences in the workers at Chic-Fil-A and Dunkin Donuts which I attribute mostly to company culture. And they are downright scary as hell, and simultaneously kind of amazing. They’re two opposite ends of the crazy spectrum. I want to go through the drive through with popcorn and not order anything but just ask them random questions for entertainment value. Let me explain. 

I will start with Chic-Fil-A. Keep in mind, I live outside of New York. It’s very liberal here politically and Chic-Fil-A is known for being owned by religious people. They even close on Sundays entirely. So you aren’t going to find them all over the place here, but where you do find them, it’s such complete and utter culture shock, it’s more like someone slapped you with a chicken rather than made you a sandwich with one.  

Chic-Fil-A Teenage Drive Through Worker (*Sugary sweet tone through speaker*): Well howdy doodie, there, fellow Child of God! How can I be of service to you this fine evening?

Me (*Looking in my back seat to check and see if my friends are going to jump out and say I’m being punked*): Uhhh….

Chic-Fil-A Teenage Drive Through Worker: I can see you haven’t made a decision yet, which is perfectly fine. Please take your time and I am waiting attentively should you have any questions or pressing concerns regarding your chicken.  

Me (*forcing myself not to make any innuendos about “pressing concerns regarding your chicken”, realizing this will be the place that will sue me for sexual harrassment*): Uhhh….

A few minutes later when I can finally recover my brain power enough to formulate thoughts and make a decision, I drive around to the window and the kid pops his head out, creepy smile plastered on his face like he’s auditioning for the Orbitz gum commercial.  

Me (*frightened*): Ahhh!

Chic-Fil-A Teenage Drive Through Worker: Hi ma’am. Fantastic to finally meet you!  

Me: Oh. My. GOD. This is New YORK!  

Chic-Fil-A Teenage Drive Through Worker (*clearly misunderstanding what I meant*): Why yes, it is! What a fine state! I have just moved here and so far I love it. And I’ve already found a church home. Here’s your food, and here’s a flyer for my church. Please join us this Sunday!  

Church Flyer says:

Join us this Sunday for a hand holding sing-along of classic biblical songs! Please bring friends! (Unless they have The Gay. We had an outbreak of it last year.)

Me (*puts car in drive and guns it out of drive through narrowly missing someone who looks suspiciously like Tammy Faye Baker*)

Then the same week I’ll find myself at Dunkin Donuts, which ’round these parts is a staple. Once you get north of New York City, this is pretty much the landscape: trees, highway, Dunkin Donuts, mansions, farmland, more trees, Dunkin Donuts, a lake, yet more trees, some houses, a Dunkin Donuts across the street from another Dunkin Donuts, a grocery store, farmland, and some sweaty guy named Earl trying to get you to buy something you don’t want who is standing in front of a Dunkin Donuts so you’re forced to talk to him because you need coffee. But no matter what Dunkin Donuts you go to, this will be the experience:

Me (*waiting at drive through speaker*)

…ten minutes later….

Me (*still waiting at drive through speaker*): Hello?  

Dunkin Donuts Teenage Drive Through Worker: What?  

Me: What do you mean, ‘what’? I want to order. Can I order?  

Dunkin Donuts Teenage Drive Through Worker (*bored*): I guess.  

Me: Okay, I will take….

(*In the background you hear a bunch of laughing, playing around, the kid at the drive through window starts playfully laughing, not realizing or caring that her mic is picking up what she’s saying.)

Dunkin Donuts Teenage Drive Through Worker: OMG, Carson!!!! Fucking knock it off! Emma, did you just see him grab my phone and moon the camera!? Holy shit!!!!  

Me: Um????? Are you there?

…no response….

Me: Anyone there? I need to order. I have a meeting I have to get to.  

…no response….

Me: OKAY, SERIOUSLY!?!?! CAN MY DRIVE THROUGH PERSON PLEASE COME BACK NOW!?!?!?

Dunkin Donuts Teenage Drive Through Worker (*Sounding bored and slightly inconvenienced*): OMG, relax, I’m HERE. What do you want?  

I grit my teeth, place my order and drive around to the window. The girl who “took my order” (I use that term in the loosest possible sense) rolls her eyes at me as she takes my money, and I see the kid in the back pretending to wipe his ass and then swirl it into my coffee because he’s too dumb to realize I can see him. The girl in the manager’s uniform is on her cell phone having what appears to be a yelling match with her significant other.  

The idiot at the window hands me my coffee and shoves my bag of sugary goodness forceably at my face and I drive away irritated. I get about five miles down the road and I pull over into a parking lot. I can’t wait to eat my croissant doughnut. I love those damn things, it might actually make this trip worth it. So, I open the bag and surprise! They gave me the wrong doughnuts. Oh, and the ones they gave me are stale. FML.  

I don’t go back to complain. It doesn’t even work because Dunkin Donuts is such a staple around here it’s in the very FIBER of our beings. “Nobody cares if YOU don’t like DD, you poor excuse for an East Coast person, you are clearly shameful and the fault is obviously your own!” will be the response I will receive. And sadly, they’re right. One time I ordered five dozen doughnuts for clients at DD and the woman (not a teenager, a woman) outright screamed at me for not calling ahead (I was completely willing to wait for them). I came back anyway. I can’t stay away, the coffee calls to you. If you’ve never had it before, imagine Heaven if it were a consumable liquid and made you excited and energetic. (Way too many dudes had some nasty thoughts there. Knock it off.)

Anyway, as you can see, my area really needs some fast food places that employ the sane. Does that even exist anymore, sane people? I’m not so sure. I’m certainly not one of them, so I don’t even know if I’m qualified to judge. I mean, this blog is called Adventures in Lunacy for fuck’s sake. Hmm.  

Well, there is one thing I do know. Teamwork makes the dream work. (Just not at Dunkin Donuts. Or for gay people at Chick-Fil-A.)