I went to jail

In keeping with my robber theme, I thought I'd share an extremely unpleasant experience I had last week. One where I literally went to jail. Well, chicken jail. 

This was one of those "if it can go wrong, it will" kind of mondays. And all I wanted to do was go home, watch trash television, eat fried chicken, and color with my new glitter crayons in my Lisa Frank coloring book. In that order. Incredibly mature, I know. Just let me.

So, on my way home from the longest day EVER, I stopped at the Golden Chick. And this is the series of events that followed...

Unless you live under a rock, or are really in to some fad diet, you are familiar with standard drive through establishment etiquette. You pull forward, you order, you drive past the 1st window (because apparently there is some kind of fast food inside joke that I'm missing) and pay/get your food at the second window. 

WRONG. Enter bitch on wheels. 22 inch platinum wheels to be more precise. Oh and a spare. On the back of her not SUV. This woman, bless her heart, almost made me kill her. And let me just say this...I would have been applauded by everyone else at Golden Chick that day. 

She pulls forward. She orders. She pulls forward. She REVERSES. She hangs out the widow with her phone. She orders some more. She pulls forward. And I shit you not, she reverses and adds to her order AGAIN. 

You know that big nasty vein that always shows ups on a murders forehead right before they snap and kill everyone? Mine was clearly visible. Throbbing in fact. Oh but don't worry. This story gets way better. 

So now it's finally (15 minutes later mind you) my turn to order. Here is where things just get asinine. The people tell me they are out of chicken. I did mention this is a CHICKEN place, right? So, I decide this is just not gonna happen for me. I can't wait another 15 minutes for you to cook more. I'm over this day and most certainly over this food chain. So I decide to leave. I look  behind me...

This is when I realize that I am literally TRAPPED. With 3 cars in front of me and 2 behind me...who all have NO problem with spending the remainder of their evening at the Chick. No path of escape is available aside from abandoning redcar and walking home. So, there I sat. For the next 30 minutes. THIRTY.MINUTES. 

And you want to know how they assured me they were sorry for my wait? A free dinner? Negative. One extra roll. ONE. 

Worst.Apology.Ever. 

The moral of the story? I got fresh, hot, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, colored the most fabulous rainbow leopard this side of a gay pride parade and I only had to serve an hour in chicken jail. 

Hashtag lifefail. 

Always,

L