In my Spanish class, we’re discussing holidays and traditions. Often, we’ll try to apply the things we’re learning to our personal lives.

Teacher: “How about here? What would you say is the traditional cuisine of the Midwest?”

Student: “Culver’s!”

It’s about 9:00 am on New Year’s morning, and I’m taking and cashing out orders in the drive-thru, meaning I’m carrying on two conversations most of the time. One car is giving me a very long order, and as I’m taking it, I’m paying out the cars ahead of him. The conversation is going normally until the customer suddenly takes a very frosty tone with me.

Customer: “I’m sorry if the order’s too big for you!”

Me: “Pardon?”

He’s getting really mad at me now.

Customer: “Look, I’m ordering for eight people, here!”

I am speechless at this. I am the youngest of five kids, so I make a point of being patient with big orders; I’ve been on the other end of such exchanges. The customer rants at me a bit, acting like I was disrespecting him. Eventually, I’m able to start stuttering out a response.

Me: “I… I’m sorry if I was distracted, sir. I’m trying to pay out orders, but I’m done with that now.”

Customer: “Well, I guess you won’t get my money, then!”

He drives off, leaving me a bit shaken and wondering if I could have handled the situation better. I tell the kitchen they don’t need to make the food and go back to taking orders. A little while later, a customer pulls up to the window to pay and asks about that car.

Me: “Yeah… I guess they didn’t want their order.”

Customer #2: “Yeah, well, they did the same thing at the [Fast Food Chain] next door before coming here.”

I’m taking orders in a drive-thru.

Me: “Welcome to McDonald’s; how can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’d like a McChicken…”

Me: “One McChicken, right.”

Customer: “Some McFries…”

At this point, I start to wonder if he’s joking, since I’ve never heard them called that, but I get him to specify the size and continue.

Customer: “…a McDr.Pepper and a McDietCoke.”

Someone in the seat next to him is laughing, and I’m starting to grin, too.

Me: “Will that be all for you today, sir? All right, that will be Mc5.54 at the first window.”

He and his McFriend both laughed at that and pulled up.

I used to teach tenth-grade English. One day, I assigned a twenty-minute writing prompt on the students’ dream life.

In my seventh period, I had a couple who had been dating for about three months. The boy was completely head-over-heels in love with his girlfriend, but he had some “unique” ideas.

After the twenty minutes were up, I asked for volunteers to share what they had written and the boy stood up to read his paper.

Boy: “My dream is to live off the grid in either Wyoming, Montana, or Alaska. I want to live in a cabin that I built with my own hands. I am going to have a farm and grow my own food, an orchard where I grow my own fruit, and cattle, chickens, and pigs that I’ll raise myself for meat. I’ll be living hours away from any real towns or cities and just have a completely free life where I can do whatever I want and be totally self-sufficient. My wife will help me build our cabin, she’ll bear our children right in our cabin, and we will homeschool them and teach them to live off of the land.”

Girl: “Um, I will definitely not be having our children in a cabin! I will be having my children in a hospital.”

Boy: “Honey, we’ll probably be three or four hours away from any hospital. Maybe more if we choose Alaska.”

Girl: “I am not giving birth four hours away from any sort of medical care!”

Boy: “You won’t have a choice. I won’t be able to get you to a hospital! You’ll be fine, I promise! I’ll know how to deliver a baby because I’ll have to help our cows have their calves.”

Girl: “Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Surprisingly enough, they were no longer a couple the next day. He was much more heartbroken about it than she was.

I’m taking orders for the drive-thru, and this man makes an unusual request.

Customer: “Hey, if I order a [Chicken Sandwich], could you cut a hole in the middle for me? It’s for a joke.”

Me: “Let me go check with the kitchen staff.” *Does so* “All right, we can do that; I’ll just ring it up as a special request.”

The man gets his food, and I don’t think much of it. Later, however, the man comes through the drive-thru again and identifies himself as being the man from earlier.

Me: “Oh, I remember you. How did the joke go?”

Customer: “It went well. See, every year, I give my wife a flower for our anniversary, but this year she was insisting, ‘You don’t have to get me a flower. Just get me a [Chicken Sandwich] or something.’ So, I got her a [Chicken Sandwich] and stuck a flower through that hole you cut in it for me!”