Drive Throughsome Gruesome 0
I seldom use drive-throughs. I think I got my fill of them at Mickey-D’s when the kids were young. But I had occasion to use one at a bank on Saturday while on the way to visit my mother.
We wheeled into the drive-through lane, third vehicle in a row. A van was at the front.
We sat.
Nothing was happening. The little carrier box was in its nest, but nothing was happening. I remarked to my friend that, perhaps, the driver was filling out paperwork–maybe a loan application. She remarked that perhaps I was not cut out to use drive-throughs.
Then I saw him in his side-view mirror.
An older gentleman (who am I kidding? Probably about my age) yakking on a cell phone.
And yakking.
The Car Talk guys took two phone calls.
Then he saw the box.
He reached out and took it.
And kept yakking.
Meanwhile, the Car Talk guys finished another phone call.
And then he drove away drove away.
With the box.
Still yakkiing.
Fortunately, Suntrust had a spare carrier box.
