I will not go quietly into the night!

Yesterday I went into a KFC and while standing in line I heard two teenages discussing what KFC stood for. Thinking I was helping I leaned forward and very matter-of-factly said, “Kentucky Fried Chicken”. Both these little emo’s looked at me stunned. It took a few second for their tiny little brains to piece it together but I could see them starting to nods their pee brained little heads up and down and one finally spoke, “sweet dude thanks, you must be hella old to know that.”



They continued to talk as I tried to get my eye twitching under control.



When the little bastards got their order they walked past me and one of them said, “Thanks again old dude”. It took every drop of “old” patience I had not to respond. As they walked the mouthy one dropped his wallet on the floor. Even though I was hoping they would leave KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN and drive over a land mine, I told the guy at the counter to hang on one sec and I ran the wallet back outside to them.



Upon returning the wallet, Mouthy says, “Man you rock old guy!”, to which I immediately responded, “I am only 40.”, to which he immediately responded, “Oh I am sorry, did you want me to call you sir.”



More eye twitching.



I walked back inside and when I got to the counter the little douche bag working the counter says, “did you forget something…it’s ok, my grandfather does that all the time.”



I slammed my keys down on the counter and said, “No, I did not forget something. I was just returning that kids wallet.” Taken back by my hostile actions Douche Bag says with a sheepish smile on his face, “Sorry bro, can I take your order.”



I opened my mouth to speak and perhaps chastise him a bit for the “bro” comment but then it hit me. I held my breath and dropped my head down. I had forgotten what my Lady had asked me to get her and the kids. I had written it down but had left the list in my truck. “FUCK” I said under my breath, oozing anger. Eating my pride I huffed at Douch Bag, “I’ll be right back”.



I took the walk of shame to my car and returned with my list. As soon as I walked back in Douch Bag says, “See, I told you my grandfather has memory problems…”



I cut him off hard and fast, “I don’t give a fuck what your grandfather does…bro!” I barked my order at him and glared the manager down to make sure he wasn’t about to speak to me. After the usual long KFC wait he produced my food and I stormed out to my truck. As I got to my truck I realized that I had left my freaking keys on the counter inside. “FUCK” I again said, this time not so much under my breath.



I walked back in saying loudly “If I hear one words about your damn grandfather, you are gonna wish I was never in here.”



Waiting for me to be ALMOST outside Douche Bag says, “I already wish that”. Almost to the door, I paused…let it go, let it go…I kept saying to myself. Despite the pause, I walked outside took a deep breath and took a sip of my drink. It was Dr. Pepper.



Now I know many people like the unique taste of Dr. Pepper. I happen to hate it and when you are expecting Diet Pepsi…it is a real shock. Already pissed off I spun around and made my fifth trip into the store.



The manager seeing my raging bull ass coming into the store stepped in front of Douche Bag and says…and I am not making this up…”Did you forget something sir.” I wanted to punch him.



Still, albeit stiffly, I explained my drink was wrong and we resolved the issue. I went out to my truck completely frazzled. After I got in my truck I felt like something was wrong. Knowing I was pissed I took a quick second to get my head straight and tried to figure out what the problem was. Although this was more out of habit than actual problem solving, with the food bag still in my hand I checked inside to make sure my order was correct. It was not.



Sixth trip inside the store.



Douche Bag starts out poorly right off the get go, “What did you forget this time?”.



“Get me your manager idiot” I said, pissed off.



The manager came over with the nicest smile asked what was wrong.



“You got my order wrong!” I breathed fire on him.



(seriously I can’t make this up) The manager then again insults my age by saying, “Oh, I am very sorry sir. No problem, I will fix it and we will give you a senior discount to make up for the mistake. What did you order?”



“Did you just call me a senior…” I asked, my eye in full fibrillation.



“No sir, I just said I was going to give you a senior discount…do you not want it?” The damn calm manager retorted.



Caught between the angry mid life crisis personality and the cheap ass English personality the more powerful trait jumped forward and said, “Yes, give me the discount”.



“What did you order?” the manager again asked.



“Two childrens meals, a #5 and a #13” I said quickly tossing the manager the bag of food.



“Um….that is what we gave you sir” the manager smugly said back.



I quickly looked into the bag and then up at the board of food. He was right. I don’t go to KFC very often and they had changed the menu since the last time I had ordered.



I closed my eyes…“Fuck” slipped from my lips just loud enough for me to hear.



I changed my order from what I had to what I wanted. I could hear quiet whispers in the back followed by laughter knowing that it was defiantly me they were talking about. When my food arrived I grabbed the bag and walked briskly outside. I got in my truck, threw my food on the passenger seat, and tried to start my truck. For some reason the damn thing would not come out of the locked position. I pulled and jerked on the steering wheel and twisted and turned the key, cussing the entire time.



My attention was ripped away as I heard from behind me, “what are you doing?”. Scared shitless I spun around trying to figure out who the hell was in the back of my truck when I noticed a teen age boy and infant girl staring at me. Knowing I do not have a teenage boy or an infant girl I suddenly came to the horrifying realization that I was in the wrong Chevy Suburban.



Although I tried to say, “I am very sorry I am in the wrong car.” And “please accept my apologies”. It came out much more like “Fuck! I sorry, damn it, shit, I am so….damn”. Needless to say I jumped out of the truck and with my head down not wanting to see the store full of people wonder why I am trying to car jack a different suburban I walked around MY suburban to get into the driver’s side.



Before I could get into my truck, a woman who could not have been any younger than me stuck her head outside the door and said, “You ok hun? No need to be embarrassed, I understand I have a grandmother who does that all the time.”



What I wanted to say and what I did say were of course two different things. I apologized for scaring her kids and told her how embarrassed I was. With several more, “I am so sorry”’s and “It’s ok”’s I quickly got into my truck started it and began to drive away. It was about 4 blocks before I realized that I had left my food in the other Suburban. I drove back but needless to say she had already left.



Being one to never quit, I walked back into the store for the seventh time, gave Douche Bag my order and kept my mouth shut. I drove home, handed my female her food and without a word went up stairs got on my computer.



“You ok hun?” my wonderful female asked.



“Yep. I am just looking up how much homes cost in Florida”