4:45 p.m. - 2006-11-16
Thirty-seven weeks. Pregnant. She has dropped so far that my belly is sitting on my lap, yet, no progress with the old cervix. So we wait.
Did I mention that I got the cops called on me? For ordering ice cream? I think I did, but I'm too lazy to link to it. So, there I am, pregnant and in a Braum's drive-thru. All I want is some ice cream. Unfortunately, the lady on the speaker sounds like Charlie's Brown's teacher, which makes my husband start in with his very loud Charlie Brown's teacher impersonation, which makes it even more impossible for me to hear the drive-thru lady. So I tell her we're gonna pull around. When we pull around, the manager lady is hanging out the window with her arms folded across her chest asking if we have a problem with her drive-thru girl. I said no, placed my order and thought nothing of it. Next thing I know, they're making a big deal about the credit card machine being slow, then a cop pulls up behind us. We scramble to hide the hubby's open beer can, because of this nice Texas open container law that penalizes designated drivers. Then the cop bends down and sees......A PREGNANT LADY IN THE ICE CREAM DRIVE THRU!!! What do you know. The idiots finally gave me my card back, and the cop laughed and told us to have a good night. Found out later (because I have connections, oh yes I do) that they had called us in drunk because we were laughing. This confirms my belief that fast food places can only hire complete incompetent idiots to work there, and horrible bitter bitches to manage them.
I got my ice cream though. Probably had spit in it, but that shit tasted GOOD.
|
