Lies We Tell Ourselves

So, this is getting posted late, but I wanted to share anyway. As it is, I’m just sort of throwing this together. Mondays just aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, and this one has been especially hectic. Luckily it’s almost over. Maybe you’ll share in my frustration. Or laugh at it. I’m good either way.

Anywho, Monday morning I went to McDonald’s to get some breakfast…yum, right? You’d think, but well, no. Even though I was there during prime breakfast hours — 8 a.m. — I still had to wait for the hashbrowns. It seems I spend half my life waiting on McDonald’s hashbrowns. Since I was using the drive-thru (I mean, of course, I was), I had to wait in “Spot A” — one of two designated spots for people to wait when the food isn’t ready. Although at my McDonald’s, it’s really just the entire parking lot, because I don’t think they ever have anyone’s entire order ready at the same time, so we’re all just sort of sitting around checking out every worker that comes out, hoping it’s our car they’re headed to with their bag of goodies.

I’ll just interject here, being told by the drive-thru person that my hashbrowns will be out shortly is like when I say I’m leaving in 5 minutes. Oh, sure, the stated time frame might be the same, but we both know it’s not going to happen.

I should also say that I ordered a breakfast that came with hashbrowns. Duh. I mean, that’s the whole point of breakfast at McDonald’s…hashbrowns. But, being the glutton I am, I ordered an extra hashbrowns. I just roll like that at 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning. So here I am, waiting for my hashbrowns and, despite the assurances of “it’ll be out in 3 minutes,” no less than 10 minutes go by. Keep this in mind when I tell you I’m leaving to meet you anywhere, lest you be disappointed…my sense of time is very similar to McDonald’s.

Lo and behold, after I had decided that no food was actually coming at all and I was just destined to spend this dismal Monday morning listening to my stomach berate me, I view the black-shirted bearer of food coming towards my car and I’m at once elated and relieved. Finally, I can leave this cursed asphalt wasteland for a better land beyond, a land where hashbrowns go hand-in-hand with coffee and all is right with the world.

In my pent-up frustration and rush to leave, however, I made a grave error. I. Did. Not. Check. The. Bag. I got where I needed to be, and you guessed it. No. Hashbrowns. Like, at all. Not the original hashbrowns that went with my pancake breakfast, and certainly not the extra order of hashbrowns. Just none. Zip. Nada.

Of course, the question I asked myself, and to which I have no easy answer: just what in the hell did they have me wait for??  What was the point of that entire exercise??

And to that, I say, well played, Monday.  Well played indeed.