I don't fancy myself a food critic and fortunately for everyone that isn't the point of this rambling.
There I am at the order station. The "May I take your order, please?" is mechanical but otherwise pleasant enough, I suppose. After all, the speaker system isn't 2013 Bose quality. Actually, it isn't 1950's drive-in theater quality, either. I actually achieve better sound quality with my iPhone 4S speaker enhancement system:
But, I digress (or ramble you might say).
Anyway, the phrase "You get what you pay for!" comes to mind. Several times as you'll soon see.
A simple order, I'm thinking. Two value-menu cheeseburgers; two value-menu cheddar-fried onion burgers; four value-menu cheeseburgers without the bun or toppings (just the meat and cheese, please and put all four of them in a single container). The first part of the order is for SWMBO; the second part of the order is for me; the third part of the order is for the Boston Terrier that doesn't eat buns or pickles (or flame-grilled burgers, either).
The tinny voice says "Please come to the first window to complete your order, I can't understand you."
I finish my explanation to the attendant at the first window and notice that there, posted for my edification, are the standards for ordering and paying for hamburgers. I say for my edification, because the signs are facing me, not the employee. Therefore, I must presume that these are the standards by which I will be measured for placing and paying for my order.
Thankfully, the employee does not outright embarass me for not meeting the standards for ordering. I breath a sigh of relief over the payment target because I'm using a credit card, not cash! Whew! And I am sent to the second window to pick up my order.
While the penalty for failure to meet the standards was not posted, it apparently includes waiting more than 10 minutes for an order of 8 dry gray mystery meat patties, four of which were too small for their buns and the other four each neatly packaged in their own plastic covered serving platter. None of which was known to me until I got home and presented my foraging and gathering results to my family. Much to my embarrassment.
Again, I caution that I am not a food critic. I will simply let a picture be worth a thousand words - I introduce you to the cheddar-fried onion burger!
Let your imagination run wild over what other picures I could have gotten of the rest of the order. And don't grieve for the Boston, she had leftover roasted chicken breast cut to order.
I guess I've learned my lesson, again, about how I get what I pay for. But even more unnerving is that there are now standards by which I must measure up to place and pay for fast food.
But, don't worry, I won't ask you "How am I doing? Call 555-555-5555!"