Yesterday night ended like any other. I was sitting finishing a beer a little too fast and the beer rose in my throat reminding me of how hungry I was. I had to do something about it, so I grabbed my keys and drove to the closest 24 hour McDonalds. I knew what I wanted. A Big Mac. The Good Old Number One. I’ve been addicted to the sauce lately. I knew the fries would be hot. They always are at this place. The cashier was an older guy, perhaps of Native American descent. He maneuvered wonderfully as he grabbed my debit card and talked into the microphone at the same time. He carried both conversations at once, with the gentlest mood and most polite words that I’d ever heard in a drive thru. A lot of thank yous and please. I paid him and thanked him for making the meal more than just another burger.
Thank you, old man in the drive thru at McDonalds. Thank you.