Thursday, June 6, 2013

Whose Line is it anyway? Ronald Mcdonald's.

Lines.

 

I hate 'em.

 

Despite our Internet ordering opportunities, we still get stuck in those stupid lines.

 

Let's begin with the post office.

 

I hate this one.

 

Especially because there is usually only one window open.

 

I'm sixth in line, waiting with my fellow impatient patrons while a senior citizen has a long winded discussion with the clerk.

 

First class for that package or parcel post?

 

Insurance?

 

How quickly do you want delivery to be made?

 

Way too many decisions for grandma to ponder.

 

She goes into rain delay mode, chirping about all the variables attached to the clerk's questions.

 

I'm in a hurry.

 

I'm losing it.

 

I think "going postal" actually refers to the justifiable homicide I'm about to commit.

 

Please, lady, figure it all out before you arrive at the United States Postal Service.

 

The location next under consideration is the Bureau of Motor Vehicles.

 

Many outposts of this state agency are efficient.

 

But those lines!

 

Here's the kicker.

 

I've made it to the front of the line.

 

That karmic moment when my tortuous wait culminates in… my turn!

 

"Sir, your documents are insufficient. Please come back with your birth certificate."

 

Followed by the true walk of shame.

 

All eyes are on me.

 

What kind of moron waits at the BMV unprepared to do battle with those cunning clerks?

 

Next, the confessional line at our local parish.

 

Two priests on duty, with  a separate line for each priest.

 

Bad idea.

 

My line has only three people waiting to make peace with the creator.

 

Line B has 13 folks waiting to unburden themselves.

 

Three versus 13?

 

The souls in line B are green with line envy.

 

 

But alas, our little trio is destined to grow old together.

 

The poor fellow reconciling before the priest we await is apparently a guest in his own Dr. Phil show.

 

The line of 13 dissipates quickly as Father Fast sees an additional seven penitents.

 

The three of us in line A have learned the virtue of patience.

 

Pastors: let's make one line the way they do at the bank.

 

If a teller window opens, the first in line deposits his sins there.

 

Which takes me to the final topic.

 

The McDonald's monstrosity.

 

McDonald's restaurants have redesigned their drive-through with two parallel lines, both feeding into a single lane so you can pay and receive your order.

 

This creates several close calls and near misses.

 

You see, no one knows which car has the right-of-way when consolidating the two lanes into one line.

 

The girl in the lane across from me is on the phone, paying no attention.

 

Does McDonald's needs this double lane disaster?

 

Ronald, I love the flaming red hair and white face paint.

 

But I don't do well with lines.

 

And two lines at once is more than I can bear.

 

At the least, get out there with your big floppy clown shoes and direct traffic.

 

This is just Mcfrustrating.

 

Well folks, that's your trip with me through waiting-in-line hell.

 

Have a nice day.

 

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