Sunday, May 1, 2011

Another Sign Of The Apocalypse

What's the world coming to?

That's a rhetorical question. I'm not waiting for you to answer. I'm used to that. In my classroom, you'd think all my questions are rhetorical. For my older kids, anyway. The freshmen are pretty good at having one or two designated question-answerers per class. I don't know if this is a conscious plan, to take heat off the ones who don't want to be called on, or if the attention-seekers are well-spread-out this year.

The reason I rhetorically asked what the world is coming to is because of what happened when I drove through Sonic today, after doing battle in The Devil's Playground. I had one of those receipts for a free Route 44 drink. The receipt where you call in and rate the Sonic, and they give you a code number. My mom does the calling for me. She volunteered. That's how she rolls. She's really on the stick, that ol' gal. Unlike someone else we might mention, who has taken four months to use that receipt. Seriously. It was dated December 31. I don't think it matters to Sonic. I used one Friday with the same date.

Here's the deal: I mentioned right up front that I had a receipt for a free Route 44. Told the voice the minute I drove up to the speaker.

"What can I get for you today?"

"I have a receipt for a free Route 44."

"What kind would you like?"

"A Diet Coke with lime."

See? No mystery there. I ordered the same way on Friday. That's where the similarity ends. On Friday, the dude said, "That will be $2.08. I'm sorry. That will be FREE!" I drove around, sixth in line, and a girl brought it out to me.

Today, I ordered the same way. And the dude said, "That will be eleven cents." WTF? Now free sodas cost eleven cents? I drove to the window, where he repeated, "Eleven cents." I forked it over, along with my receipt. The receipt which did not say you are entitled to a Route 44 for eleven cents if you call in and rate your service.

I've got to get construction started on my handbasket factory.


Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

I hope you gave him eleven pennies and a scowl.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

tax? the cup? who knows?

Hillbilly Mom said...

I gave him a dime and a penny, and was too discombobulated to scowl.

Or just getting rich by scamming customers for 11 cents at a time.