Hot Josh and the Drive-Thru Time Limit
I pulled into the drive-thru at 12:16 p.m.
There were three cars ahead of me.
Reasonable.
Efficient.
Civilized.
By 12:22, I reached the menu board.
“Welcome! Go ahead with your order whenever you’re ready.”
Whenever I’m ready.
Important words.
Words I would soon discover meant absolutely nothing.
I hadn’t looked at the menu yet.
Why would I?
That’s what the menu board was for.
“Give me just a minute.”
“No problem!”
Excellent.
I began reviewing my options.
Burger.
Chicken.
Chicken pretending to be a burger.
Burger pretending to be healthier because someone put lettuce on it.
Then I noticed the limited-time menu.
Now we had complications.
“Are you ready to order?”
It had been approximately twenty seconds.
“No.”
“Okay, just let me know!”
I continued reading.
Behind me, someone honked.
I looked in my mirror.
A man in an SUV was gesturing toward the speaker.
Interesting.
Apparently I had acquired a consultant.
I returned to the menu.
“What comes on the number seven?”
The employee explained.
“What about the number nine?”
Another explanation.
“What makes the number twelve deluxe?”
More explanation.
The SUV honked again.
I ignored him.
Major purchasing decisions should not be influenced by outside pressure.
I was about to spend nearly fourteen dollars.
Due diligence matters.
“Can I substitute onion rings?”
“Yes, for an additional charge.”
“How additional?”
“Seventy-nine cents.”
I considered this.
The SUV honked a third time.
Now it was personal.
I leaned slightly out my window and looked back.
He threw both hands into the air.
I gave him a thumbs-up.
He did not return it.
“Sir?”
The employee was still waiting.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“Would you like the onion rings?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Silence.
Finally I made my choice.
“I’ll take the number seven.”
“Okay.”
“But make it large.”
“Sure.”
“With onion rings.”
“Okay.”
“And no tomato.”
“Got it.”
“Actually, keep the tomato.”
“Okay.”
“But put it on the side.”
A pause.
“On the side?”
“Yes.”
The SUV behind me made a sound with its horn I had never heard from a factory-installed automobile.
The employee laughed.
I could hear it through the speaker.
“Anything else?”
I looked at the dessert menu.
The SUV driver saw me looking at the dessert menu.
I know this because his forehead touched his steering wheel.
“Do you still have the seasonal shake?”
“Yes.”
“What size?”
“Small, medium, or large.”
I considered asking for nutritional information.
Even I have limits.
“Medium.”
“Your total is $18.74. Please pull forward.”
Success.
I drove around the building.
At the payment window, the employee was smiling.
“Busy day?” I asked.
“Very.”
I handed her my card.
Behind me, the SUV finally reached the speaker.
I could faintly hear the driver.
“I KNOW WHAT I WANT.”
Aggressive.
But prepared.
I’ll give him that.
The employee handed me my drink.
Then my food.
Then my shake.
I checked the bag.
Fries.
I looked at her.
“I ordered onion rings.”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh! I’m sorry.”
Behind me, the SUV moved approximately six inches closer.
“It’s fine.”
“We can replace them.”
I looked in the mirror.
The driver was watching me.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Praying.
I smiled.
“Yes, please.”
The employee disappeared.
I waited.
Thirty seconds.
Forty-five.
A full minute.
The SUV driver stared into another dimension.
Finally, my onion rings arrived.
“Sorry about that!”
“No problem.”
I placed the bag beside me.
Before leaving, I lowered my window and gave the SUV driver another thumbs-up.
He responded with one finger.
I’m assuming it represented his rating of the restaurant.
One star.
Harsh.
I drove away.
My food was hot.
My order was correct.
And the onion rings were excellent.
The lesson?
A drive-thru may be designed for speed.
But Hot Josh believes accuracy takes time.
Especially when somebody behind him is in a hurry.
