Last night, while my friends Todd, Ryan and I were out doing some scouting for an upcoming Rock TV, we stopped off for a pungent meal at Burger King.
Then, in the middle of our conversation, something wonderful happened.
Todd was the first to notice it. Ryan and I then saw his change in demeanor and turned around to pay attention as a female customer and the teenage girl behind the register began a heated exchange for the ages. Near as I could tell, the two individuals were unhappy with the attitude of the other and were expressing their displeasure though the gift of cursing.
As heads shook and veins bulged, vollies of vulgarity vaulted through the otherwise grimly silent Burger King. Ryan, Todd, and I sat frozen, processed sandwiches in hand, as the exchange continued. Then the customer, respendent in her loose t-shirt and Famous Daves hat, won the argument soundly by screaming, “I was a f****** manager at a Burger King for 6 years! I know how to f****** treat customers!”
The girl behind the register protested with a few more weak vulgarities, but her position had been breached. After challenging the customer to solve the matter in a physical manner, her manager quickly interceded, and the festivities drew to a quick conclusion.
Later, Todd and I noted that that was the only possible scenario where the claim to have managed a Burger King for six years would be cause for anything other than a deep and punishing shame. Think about it, in what other context could dropping the fact that you were a longtime fast food manager be considered advantagous? Todd speculated that late last night, while she lay in her bed, that woman thought to herself, “Yes! I knew those years weren’t a complete and utter waste!”
Here’s to you, ladies. Your expletive-laced tirade enlivened our dinner and crushed the innocence of all children present. I wish you godspeed on your sure-to-be-successful journey in life.