The drive-thru is not a new invention and neither is the automobile.  So why are there still so many people that are confused about how to navigate the passageway, shout into the clown’s mouth, obtain their food, and be on their way without creating a scene?  I think it’s time for a refresher course on the rules of drive-thru etiquette.

Don’t Cut Me Off to Get There

If I have to revenge-tailgate you the whole time we’re in line because you cut me off, it makes the whole situation pretty awkward.  And it distracts me from concentrating on what kind of doughnut I’m going to order.

Know Your Order

Don’t wait until you get to the speaker to start asking your kids what they want to order.  Know your order, commit it to memory, and spit it out.  Write it down if you must.

Move Up

Don’t move up half a car length and then just sit there after placing your order.  If I then move up close enough to trigger the order taker’s attention, and yet I’m not close enough for her to actually hear my order, my coffee is going to be wrong, or there will be pickles on my daughter’s hamburger.  Then there will be hell to pay, and I will find you so that you’ll be the one paying.

Turn Your Music Down

You have music in your car.  Guess what?  So does everybody.  Even the guy in the Fiesta.  It doesn’t make you cool.  We all have our own music and we don’t need you to share.  And again, if my coffee has cream instead of milk because the coffee dude couldn’t hear…hell.  To pay.  By you.

Butt Out

Don’t smoke in the drive-thru.  The other day I watched someone blow smoke right into the face of the cashier.  That’s just douche. 

Someone’s Gotta Pay

The time that you arrive at the window is not the time to begin thinking about how you are going to pay for your non-fat extra-hot venti chai tea latte with extra foam and a rainbow.  The change you can dig out of your console in ten seconds is not going to cover that over-priced cup of ridiculous.  You need plastic for that.  The good card.  The one with the magic chip that you can just wave at the machine and be on your way.

Get Lost

You’ve got your food.  Now get the hell out of my way.  Don’t start opening packages or handing that shit out to people in the way back of the minivan while you’re still in the lane – move to the parking lot to do that.  If I have to lean on my horn, it will just be embarrassing for both of us.  Okay, maybe just for me.  And for my poor humiliated children, who will be trying to eat their happy meals under a blanket so no one sees them.  I’m holding you responsible when that triggers some kind of public breastfeeding traumatic flashback. 

So…clearly I have some drive-thru road rage to work through, and I should likely spend less time obtaining hits of caffeine, and more time doing hot yoga.  But in the meantime, please work with me.  You promise to use the drive-thru responsibly, and I’ll promise to drink more green tea and meditate.

Author

Tara is gainfully employed by the toughest 3 female bosses she has ever had (well except for that one accounting manager who hated her). The pay sucks, but the cuddles are awesome. She drinks a lot of coffee, uses humour as a defense mechanism, and lives in fear of what lurks in her backyard. Keep Tara company on her unfortunately-named blog Don’t Lick the Deck, where she talks about her husband Nerdguy; her 10 year old and twin 8 year old girls; parenting autism and ADHD; and her inability to shop without creating disaster. She is regular contributor to Parentdish.ca who have not yet filed a restraining order.

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