So off I go into the dark of night, where I like it best. No nasty sun shining in my eyes. No cheerful people walking their dogs. No joggers, lean and fit, taking a moment to wave as they fly by on the wings joy.I really hate the day time. Nope, no regular version of seasonal affective disorder here. I am the antithesis of seasonally affected disorders. I get happy when it gets dark.
So up to Burger King I go, singing a happy song (from some soundtrack, you know like Akasha or the Crow or maybe it was the Skinny Puppies... I forget).
So I get to the drivethrough thinking, 'Oh yeah, Andre Riopel would be SO proud of me now! High Five! -- Wait a second, did I bring any money with me!?'
While digging in my purse for change a car pulls up behind me so I pull ahead to the little talkie box.
"WelcometoBurgerKing, wheeze-wheeze, howmayI crackle fuzzzz?"
"Uh, hi, do you take debit?"
...
"Hello, do you take interac, debit, you know plastic cards?'
...
"Hello? Is there anybody out there?"
"... crackle POP cracklehelp you ma'am"
"Uh, deb-bit?" I say v-e-r-y slowly.
"YES MA'AM How can I HELP you?"
"Onion rings, lots a them, oh and an Angus Burger a la Craig West." I blurt out in shock and indignation at the seemingly innocent box's outburst.
"Par-don me?" It replies, slowly and with an icy calm.
"Oh, um, one Angus Burger combo, nothing on it... just bun-meat-bun, you know... oh but you can put the onions on it, okay? Is that okay? And can you make it with onion rings instead of fries?"
Thinking Ami might be really hungry for onion rings I quickly add, "And another order of large onion rings."
Just as I sit back and relax, thinking the order ordeal over, the box squawks at me, "TO DRINK????"
"Abadda ahh, uh, Rootbeer, yeah, rootbeer no ice," I stammer.
As I drive slowly and cautiously around the corner I see a $10 bill in my bag and pull it out.
The drive through window opens to reveal a bespectacled little man with wild brown hair sticking out all over the back of his head. He is standing with a paper cup of pop in one hand, and a straw in the other, looking like he's been waiting all night like that. I make to hand him the money and he shoves the drink in my hand. I nearly drop the cash and quickly stow the drink in my cup holder.
When I turn back, the intense little man is shuffling under the counter for another straw. Apparently he just dropped the first one without waiting to see if it was in my hand or not.
"Oops, sorry," I say as I back away from my door a bit. "I found some cash..." and I give him a tentative smile.
He looks at me like I just murdered the last Dodo bird in the world as he hands me the straw and a little piece of paper with no obvious markings on it.
"Take your receipt around to the other window," he says as he drops my change in my hand. I drive around to the other window and put my car in park knowing you have to have orangutan arms to reach the window.
A slim blonde girl hangs out the window, which is, incidentally, about 2 feet from a door.
"Thanks, that's quite the reach, isn't it," I say as she hands me a bag of what I assume is food.
She says nothing, only looks at me like I was the very person who stabbed Christ through the heart as he hung on the cross.
'Whoa,' I think as I drive away. 'Remind me never to work nights at Burger King in Sault Ste. Marie. It seems to seriously suck.'
I check and find the order is right then drive off after cranking the tunes again.
Down to Mac's on Second Line I go for smokes. I stand there and chat with the two clerks about what to buy Ami, since they are out of her favourite brand of death stick. In walks this guy, lean, about 35 to 40, dressed in expensive casual clothes, very clean, gold rimmed glasses, short, dark hair and receding hairline.
He is clearly agitated when he asks the younger clerk if he is on the right road for Thunder Bay.
I laugh.
"Uh nope, you be heading for the lake, sir," I say.
He starts waving his arms around and his voice becomes more loud and starts to raise hysterically as he says, "There are no signs in this town! Why aren't there any SIGNS in this town!? Why don't they put any signs here!? There really are NO SIGNS around here..."
"That's because its Sault Ste. Marie," I say in what I hope is a calming voice.
"I KNOW I'm in Sault Ste. Marie!" he says with one more hand brandish.
"I mean, there are no signs BECAUSE it's Sault Ste. M... oh, never mind," and I pretend to find something really interesting on my foot.
The young clerk jumps in to rescue me and speaks in an efficient, well-informed sounding voice,
"Drive east, back the way you came, (pointing as she talks) through six lights until you come to an intersection with Tim Horton's on your right, Petro Can on your left and a Shell station across the street and on your right. Turn left there and you will be on Highway 17 North to Thunder Bay."
The sign-needy man immediately relaxes. He repeats the clerk's directions and I wait for her to confirm them as correct before piping up, again craving the taste of my own foot.
"Seek ye Tim Horton's young man, turn at Tim's."
"Just not the first one," says the clerk.
"Oh yeah, I forgot there is at least one between here and there," I stammer and return to quietly inspecting my shoe as I wonder if I'm really as stupid as I look and sound.
The man laughs and thanks me first before nodding his thanks to the two clerks and departing the store.
Now I am home blogging on a very full belly.
Ami has her smokes and the onion rings are done.
I couldn't eat much of the burger and gave most of it to Cooper but still feel like I should be making myself barf before I run downtown and back to purge myself of that adventure.
Hopefully Ami will have had enough onion rings to last a while.