Yeah, yeah, I know, “thru” isn’t really a word any more than “lite” is, but what the hell.
So I went to the drive-thru today, and it just reminded me of why the South and Texas (since they are not apparently part of the South) are so weird to my Western self. They have people manning the microphone. Now, what’s absurd is that the machines of the autochef are still doing all the work inside the Jack in the Black Box, but the people at the drive-thru get your order and then repeat it to the voice recognition program to actually place it. The “human touch” is so important, they’ll add layers of error to things just to pretend we’re still in the 19th Century.
Standing at the vending machines…
D: I didn’t get what I wanted.
B: I hate when that happens. I pushed Dr. Pepper the other day and got Sprite.
D: No, I got what I ordered, just not what I wanted.
B: Huh?
D: They never have anything I truly want in this machine.
So, at work today, I got into a fistfight with one of the GIs. I think I may not work there any more. They don’t generally like people beating on the customer, I think.
Then, I get home and find a note from my wife, telling me she left me for an insanely butch woman she met last week. WTF is that about?
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