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I
went to one of the many fast food restaurants that surround my
neighborhood one morning to enjoy some of the discounted senior coffee. I
walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of senior coffee and some mini
cinnamon buns.
The unhappy server behind the counter grabbed the money
out of my hand punched the cash register and then handed me an empty cup, I
said to the kid "I guess seniors don't drink much."
Without looking up
at me he pointed to the corner of the dining room area while slamming down the
Styrofoam box containing my freshly microwaved mini cinnamon buns. With my eyes
following the direction his finger pointed there stood an island with an ice
machine and a row of drink dispensers and three coffee pots.
Balancing
my Styrofoam box of cinnamon buns and the empty Styrofoam coffee cup on the
tray I walked across the room to the drink dispensing island. I inserted my
coffee cup under the first coffee pot and pulled the handle; the first the pot
was empty. I moved over to the next coffee pot and found it was empty too. The
third one dispensed some black liquid into my sanitary Styrofoam cup.
The black liquid resembled something I once saw aboard ship; it was
called NSFO (Navy Standard Fuel Oil). Unlike the more modern fuels used today
called DFM which is refined marine diesel fuel. NSFO is one step from crude
oil; it has to be heated just to get it to flow though pipes and hoses. The
black liquid that was now in my cup, and NSFO were never meant for human
consumption.
It was probably an accident due to one of the fast food
restaurant's unhappy employee being engaged in some form of electronic social
engagement (Cell phne texting or checking Twitter, Face Book, etc.) while
simultaneously engaged in cleaning the coffee pot that caused the employee to
forgot to hang a warning label on the pot, "Do not use this coffee pot it's
being cleaned".
After a few minutes another angry fast food restaurant
employee, a young girl came over and literally pushed past the customers and
started throwing things around while in the process of setting up the other
coffee pots to brew fresh coffee. There was no doubt that she was very
disturbed by the presence of the customers. Today's youth seem to be more adept
at interacting with others through electronic social means, texting, posting
and selfies; than in person.
I decided not to talk to her I didn't
want to take a chance of distracting her; after all, she was already angry and
we had one pot with a strange undrinkable black liquid in it. It was obvious we
didn't need two more. This is one of the 21st century's mysteries why is it
that no one who works in a fast food restaurants are happy.
While the
coffee was brewing I decided to spend the time waiting by interacting with real
people and walked over and began a conversation with a very nice looking,
mature women; who was very much my age or perhaps more experienced in
life than I. Just as I started to introduce myself another rather irate woman
cut me off and started to scream at me shaking her fist in my face…
What in the world could I have done, I never imagined that old women
could get so violent. I was glad I was partially deaf and couldn't hear most of
what the women was saying. But, I needed to know what breach of senior social
etiquette or faux pas I just made.
Everyone was watching this short,
very angry, red haired woman scream and thump me on the chest all the while
telling me how she knew that I didn't come here just for coffee, and it was
just an excuse.
"An excuse for what; and what do you care
anyway…" I yelled back. I was starting to fear that all the good looking
ladies of my age who are witnessing this, would think I was a wuss or worse, if
I didn't at least argue back with the angry woman.
Thinking about it
now I should have just kept quiet. No sooner did I finish speaking did I feel a
blow land on my face strong enough to send my upper plate across the room.
Polygrip just couldn't hold against that force from the blow, as my upper
dentures went airborne they left a trail of tapering strings of polygrip goo
from their departure point. They landed on the floor with a bounce and slide,
ending up under a table.
Confused, in pain, in shock and now
scrambling around the dining area floor, under some very nasty tables trying to
recover my teeth; I couldn't believe this woman just hit me that hard.
Now the unhappy manager of the fast food restaurant shows up and asks the woman
if she needs help. I am truly convinced there is no intelligent life behind the
counters of any fast food restaurant.
The angry fast food restaurant
manager is now trying to push me out the door, I'm holding my teeth in one hand
and in the other hand my coffee cup still holding the mysterious un-potable
black liquid; all the while trying to explain to him that I'm not the aggressor
and I haven't even gotten my coffee yet… He didn't care he just pushed me
out the door and told me not to come back.
I walked over to my car and
opened the passenger door and got in and sat down. I still had the plastic tray
and on it was the Styrofoam box of mini cinnamon buns and the coffee cup with
the mysterious un-potable black liquid. With my car's door open I poured the
mysterious un-potable black liquid on the ground and watched as flowed down
hill coming to pool up against a tire of a parked car.
To my surprise
after a few minutes of the black liquid being in contact with the parked car's
tire it started to smoke. I also noticed the asphalt of the parking lot was
melting too. Suddenly a loud boom as the tire exploded and rapidly went flat. I
was sitting there in astonishment when the fast food restaurant manager came
running out screaming about his tire exploding.
Everyone; customers
and employees in the restaurant were at the window watching. Some of them were
busy taking selfies with the smoking car behind them, while others were texting
to friends and sending pictures of the manager running around the parking lot.
Still images and video of the incident showed up on every social media site
within seconds, but no one call 911.
I was sitting in my car with my
coagulated box of mini cinnamon buns, sitting on a little plastic tray and very
empty coffee cup. I didn't take any selfies, or video or text anyone images of
the smoking tire, I sure as hell wasn't calling 911 after all I was still
without any coffee and I had to sit there and wait for the angry, red haired
short lady to come out and drive me home…
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