Dear Daniel

Dear Daniel,

Sometimes even adults get too big for their britches. Now I say this with the caveat that my mother is one of the world’s worst customers. I say this because I’ve been in more than one place with her and seen her pull some serious attitude on some poor hapless worker just trying to get by and doesn’t deserve the bullshit she’s about to dump on. I think identify with them because my mother has dumped on me like that for no apparent reason and I think no one deserves that kind of abuse from anyone.

Well today got off to a rocky start. I had breakfast. A good healthy one. Multigrain Cheerios and 1% milk. Measured out of course. I tried to write this post before leaving but I had no energy or focus to, then parents mention they’re going to get their hair cut. I ask if I can go along.

Listen, I know a 38 year old grown ass woman riding around with her parents seems childish at best but I needed to get out of the house. And since all my money goes to my career and building it I have no car. (I have never owned a car) But I got static, they assumed I wanted them to pay for my hair cut, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. I just didn’t want to be alone, although, after what happened at lunch I questioned myself as to why I wanted to be with them in the first place.

I bartered my three books in print for a cut and style. I love talking to Keith, although as long as we stay off the topic of politics we’re fine. He’s like one of my biggest fans so it was awesome to catch up with him while he snipped and cut away.

So far, so good, right?

Then dad asks do you want lunch now or do you want to wait? Well, my seven year nephew said now and since my parents let the grandchildren make the decisions we were off to Wendy’s. Which is where everything turned sour.

We go in and stand in line forever. It’s lunchtime so that’s to be expected, but given it’s right off the interstate people stop there too.  We order. My mother wants a skinny vanilla latte. It’s on the menu on the wall, but it had been taken off the menu where they make drinks, sandwiches, whatever so they charged my mother for the latte and give her a small regular coffee. Did I mention she ordered a medium?

Since my mother can be a real bitch when it comes to getting things right when they charged her for the latte and gave her the coffee you can imagine the eruption. My dad, who counts his calories religiously was ready to eat.

So, like in the film Gravity the incorrect order created a catastrophic like chain of events which resulted in a yelling match, first between my mother and father and then between my father and the rude cashier behind the counter.

The cashier was clearly in the wrong, but having run into that problem before my mother would have been better off just not ordering the damn drink.

I will admit, I’m a high maintenance ordering kind of gal, but only at sit down restaurants. And as long as my food is hot and my drink stays full I’m pretty easy to please. I admit I’ve had my moments, where I’ve been tired or hungry and the service hasn’t been bad it’s just not been all that great and I had a shameful moment or too. But nothing on the level of today. Of course my Aunt Sue brings shaming the server to a whole ‘nother level.

Sincerely,

Amy McCorkle