You know, the one that fast food employees hate with a burning passion. Yesterday we drove all the way from Colorado Springs to East Texas. This was not a particularly fun 874 mile drive. It was made much more bearable by the fact that my sweet husband charged up the car’s air conditioning system for the trip (a charge lasts a maximum of two days).
So anyway, we blew through Wichita Falls at supper time, but didn’t see anything that looked like a good option, so for some reason we just kept driving and driving and driving. We still had a long way to go. Finally, though, we acknowledged that we were hungry and needed to stop for something to eat. We saw a gas station with a Grandy’s restaurant attached, so we decided to go for it.
We walked in at 8:55 and not until we had started ordering did we realize that the place closed at 9:00. I felt so awful. The employees (all Hispanic) were trying to clean up and get out of there. We tried to find out what would be the least trouble for them. I, of course, needed a gluten-free option. So what did those fast-food workers do? They fried up some chicken nuggets for Walter and gave him more than twice as many as he had ordered, plus a mountain of fries. They found a marinated chicken breast for me and served it on a pile of rice with two very generous vegetable sides. Then they brought out a whole box of rolls for us to take since they didn’t want to throw them away. And right before they turned out the lights, one sweet young lady brought out a heated cinnamon roll for Walter’s dessert! Not one of them displayed an impatient or bad attitude. I wish I knew what town that was so I could let their manager know what a great team he has there!
We didn’t arrive home till after 12:30 a.m. and didn’t get to bed until quite a bit later. And yes, I still got up at 6:00 this morning and went grocery shopping.