Incident at the Drive-Thru
So I’m at the Drive-Thru window at the Mickey D’s on Gaines School Road ready to order two hot-cakes-and-sausage breakfasts — one for my son and one for his friend — plus four chocolate milks (the chocolate milk bottles are insanely tiny). I push the button to open my driver’s side window. As the window lowers, I spot a fly on the order confirmation screen. Not just any fly. Not a house fly. A really really big fly. A fly so big you could saddle it and ride it. A fly so big you could throw a rope around its neck and skitch behind it with a skateboard. And with prominent stripes across its back. I’m thinking this fly should be excluded from the interior of the van at all costs. I order Gertrude, my GPS, to sound general quarters and seal the vehicle. (She thinks I say “air conditioning off,” which is about the last thing I would say under the circumstances. Her interface needs work.) I push the button to roll up the window. But just at that moment it’s my turn to order. “Would you like to try a mocha today?” No, I’d like you to come out here NOW with a spatula and dispatch this creature — poised to do what flies do, and possibly much, much worse — that is stationed menacingly between me and the kids’ breakfast. So I ask myself. Which do I fear more — the monster hungry to invade my van while I’m strapped in and sandwiched between cars at the drive-thru, or the monsters at home ready to devour me unless I arrive with breakfast? I catch my window midway of its travel upward, place my order as if it were any other Tuesday morning, then seal the van and roll to the first window with my Visa card (the fastest way to pay at Mickey D’s in the twenty-first century). The fly moves nary an inch. So I figure I was never the target. The fly was waiting for somebody else. Somebody behind me in the line, or somebody fated to try Mickey D’s for lunch. I suppose I’ll never know who it was or how it all went down. I’ll check the police blotter in the paper (online) the next few days, but it’s the sort of thing that the city likes to keep quiet. Giant insect attacks at fast-food drive-thru’s are not good for attracting the best students to UGA.