You ever had one of those evenings when you’re in line at Braums and the girl serving people waits on everybody but you (skipping over you in line THREE times) and then an old lady cuts in front of you and orders a banana split which takes forty three minutes and seventeen seconds for the girl to make and you are about to scream or pop a blood vessel or both? Well, that happened to me and Saxon last night.
We had stood in line for twenty seven minutes and all we wanted was one friggin’ frozen yogurt twist in a waffle cone. We suffered through a woman with seven screaming kids who all wanted ice cream that wasn’t on the menu and by the time the old lady cut in front of us, we were ready to explode. I chose to take out my anger in another way.
I whispered to Saxon, “Watch me and play along.”
“What’re you going to do?” she asked.
“Just go with it,” I said.
We were up next. The girl asked, “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I said to her. “Please listen carefully because I don’t like to repeat myself. I want twenty-eight banana splits to go. ”
“Twenty-eight?” the girl asked.
“Maybe you should write this down,” I said. “Grab a pen.”
She did. I looked at Saxon and winked.
I said, “Twenty-eight banana splits to go. On eleven of those I want three cherries. On seven of those I want two cherries. On three of them I want nuts. Got that?”
The girl looked bewildered. Saxon butted in, asking, “Is your ice cream organic?”
“Huh?” the girl said.
I continued, “On seven of the splits I want a banana and a half and on twenty-one of them I want half a banana.”
Saxon butted in, “Are the cows organic?”
“Huh?” the girl asked.
“Do you have hot fudge?” I asked.
“Sure,” the girl said.
“Then change the order,” I said. “I want twenty-seven banana splits, half with half a banana and three cherries, half with nuts and a whole banana, and the other half with cherries, nuts and no bananas.”
“And one hot fudge sundae,” Saxon chimed in.
“Do you want nuts on that?” I asked Saxon.
“Sure, whatever,” Saxon said, shrugging. Then she leaned across the counter and whispered to the girl , “Are the cows happy?”
“Happy?” the girl asked.
“Yeah, you know, happy. Because I can’t eat ice cream from a sad cow,” Saxon said. “It’s against my religion. I’m Hindu.”
“You know what?” I said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want banana splits after all. I think we should get hamburgers instead. Change my order to twenty-eight hamburgers to go. Seven with pickles and mustard. Eight with mustard and pickles. The rest with hot fudge.”
“I can’t eat hamburgers,” Saxon said. “I’m Hindu.”
“There’s no ham in hamburgers,” I said, “That’s a misnomer.”
“Oh, okay. Then make my banana split with a hamburger and no cherries.”
The girl dropped her pencil on the floor and walked away.
Saxon and I snickered as we walked out the door.
“I feel better now,” I said.
“Me, too,” she said.
We went to Sonic and ordered ice cream blasts.
A Perfect Romance
“You’ve never read anything like it!”