No One Has Convenient Selective-Memory Like Mothers

My mother and I are in the drive-thru at a popular fast food restaurant. I’ve worked just about every kind of customer service and retail job out there, so I always make sure everyone I’m with is respectful.

Cashier: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How can I help you today?”

Mom: “We want a bacon cheeseburger, a [signature sandwich], two large fries, a [soda], and a mint shake.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, our shake machine is down right—”

Mom: *Pounding on the steering wheel* “God d*** it! Every time!”

Me: *Grabbing her arm* “Mom!”

Cashier: *Obviously nervous* “I— I’m sorry. Can I offer you a free cookie for the trouble?”

Mom: “No, we want the shake.”

Cashier: “I apologize for the inconvenience. Will there be anything else?”

Mom: *Dramatic sigh* “I don’t know. [My Name], anything else?”

Me: “I’ll take an iced coffee, please.”

Mom: “We’ll have an iced coffee, then.”

Cashier: “Okay. Again, I am sorry for the inconvenience. The mint shake is in high demand and we had to—”

Mom: “It’s fine. It’s always down.”

Me: “Mom! That’s enough!” *Louder, to the cashier* “What was the total, please?”

Cashier: “[Total]. Please pull forward to the first window.”

While we’re waiting in line, my mom continues.

Mom: “I just don’t understand why it’s always down.”

Me: “I don’t understand why you reacted like that.”

Mom: “Like what?”

Me: *Disbelief* “Assaulting the steering wheel, swearing at the cashier.”

Mom: “What? I didn’t do that.”

Me: “Yes, you did.”

Mom: “No, I didn’t.”

Me: “Mom. You did. You hit the steering wheel and said, ‘God d*** it! Every time!”

Mom: “I did not!”

Me: “Okay. When we get up here, you apologize to the cashier. If she accepts it, that means you did it. If she looks at you like you’re crazy, I’ll apologize to you. And I’ll pay for the food.”

Mom: “Okay.”

We get to the window where a girl who can’t be more than nineteen is waiting nervously. I see someone in a manager’s uniform trying to hide around the corner, obviously listening.

Cashier: “You had the [order]?”

Mom: “Yes. Look…” *Looks at me* “I’m sorry for… that, back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

Cashier: *Unsure* “Um. Thank you. Again, I am sorry about the inconvenience.”

Mom: *Turning red* “It’s not your fault.”

She handed over her bank card and took the food without another word. Neither of us knows where that outburst came from and she still hesitated to admit it was real.