"Welcome to Burger King, may I take your order?"
"Yeah, I'd like a Veggie Whopper...make that a combo, with a Coke, please."
"One Veggie Combo with a Coke."
The luminous order sign flashes back at me: "1 VEGGIE"
"Anything else?"
"That's all."
"That'll be $4.19, please drive through to the first window."
At the first window, a girl takes my cash.
"Did you order the Veggie Whopper?"
"Yes."
"Well, we don't have Veggie Whoppers."
"Wha...did you run out?"
"No. We don't have Veggie Whoppers."
"Wha...but the sign -- "
"We don't have Veggie Whoppers. We have Veggie Burgers."
"..."
I am embroiled in burger semantics!
"Please pull up to the second window."
"Here you go, sir, here's your Coke!"
"Thanks."
"Can you please pull ahead into the lot? It takes a minute to make those Veggie Burgers."
"Uh...sure."
I pull up into the lot, and park close to a rear entrance from which I assume an employee will momentarily emerge carrying my VEGGIE BURGER®. After a few minutes, I see a woman in a Burger King uniform, wandering confused around the front part of the lot, carrying a paper sack. I pull up to the front part of the lot, give her a friendly toot and wave at her.
"Did you have the Veggie Buwgew?"
"Yes."
"You'we suppowsed to puww up by the fwont doow."
"Nobody told me where --"
"Just wemembew that fow newxt time."
"..."
I instinctively open my mouth and raise an index figure to argue, but at about the same time that I realize that arguing with developmentally disabled fast food employees is just not right, she turns on her heel and stomps back to the front door.
Maybe I should start eating meat again.
