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Drive-Through at the Fast Food Joint

By Elton Camp

To some people it must seen just fine
Having a long wait in the drive-thru line.
The car motor running all the while,
Using enough gas to go many a mile.

The voice from the ordering box will say,
“Want to try our triple fudge sundae today?”
I must then say my answer is no.
If I wanted that, I’d have said so.

When you get to give your order, be prepared 
For an employee seriously hearing-impaired.
You might as well expect 
The order to be incorrect.

“No, I said a sandwich of fish,
Not the extra stuffed taco dish.
You must have had a dream.
I didn’t order large ice cream.

There will be a sound of surprise
When you decline to go supersize.
And an unbelieving squeal
If you refuse the meal deal.

“I don’t want a drink filled with sugar and stuff.
A sandwich and fries are already bad enough.
If you insist, I’ll tell you what to do,
Decide if this is for me or for you.”

Then pay at Window One.
Your ordeal has just begun.
From the serving window comes a loud shout.
“You’ll have to pull up and we’ll bring it out.”

But there’s no place to stay
That’s out of traffic’s way.
Finally you’ll have a sack of salt and cholesterol,
You drive away wondering if it was worth it at all.

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