A Server at Taco Bell
“$5.37.”
That’s what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint, two dimes and an old Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the voice from behind the counter said the harshest thing anyone has ever said to me. He said, “It’s OK. I’ll give you the Senior Citizen discount.”
I turned to see who he was talking to. Then I heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. “Only $4.68” he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 48, not even 50 yet, still a young man! Did he really call me a Senior citizen? I took my burrito and walked out to the truck. What was wrong with that kid. Was he blind?
I sat in my truck. I got more and more angry. “Old? Me? No, he’s not getting away with this,” I thought. I got out of my truck and went back inside. I walked up to the counter, and there stood the little twit, waiting with that stupid smile. Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, as if he could distract me from my mission!
“You can’t get too far without your car keys, can you, Sir?” he chuckled. I stared with utter disdain at my keys he was dangling like a toy before a dog. I began to rationalize the scenario in my mind. “Leaving your keys behind hardly qualifies a man as elderly!” I said in a raised tone, “It has nothing to do with age!” I turned and headed back to the truck.
Now I was shaking, I was so angry. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn’t turn. Now what? I checked my keys and tried the valet key. Still nothing. That’s when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. I don’t have purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. Then, I noticed a few other things: Happy Meal toys in the floorboard; a partially eaten doughnut on the dash. A half-empty soda in the cup holder.
Whoever’s truck that was: I was only in it less than two minutes, and I didn’t take anything.
Moments later I’m speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally leave this nightmarish burrito stop. That’s when my stomach growled at me. Hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached across the seat to grab my burrito, only it was not there. I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and headed back into the restaurant one more time. There he stood, draped in youth and mockery. He still had his stupid smile.
“It just isn’t your day is it?” he said as he held out my burrito and drink. That’s all he said, but I know what he was inferring: “Why don’t you get a Boy Scout to help you back into your vehicle so you can go and apply for Social Security benefits, old man?”
I went back out to my truck. From nowheere, a young guy came up and knocked on my window to get my attention. He was holding up my wallet. He explained, “I think you dropped this over by my truck by mistake.” I took my wallet back and offered to pay him $20 for its safe return. He said to me, “Naw, keep your money. My grandfather loses his stuff like this all the time.”
I drove home.
I walked in the front door, I went straight to my recliner-rocker, covered my legs with a blanket, turned on Jeopardy!, and ate my burrito. The good news was, I had successfully found my way home.
Well, Aren't You Funny? 