I hate, hate, hate grocery-shopping day. It is absolutely the worst day of the week.

We have the same discussion every single time and it usually goes a little like this…

Becky: So, what do we need to get at the store?

 Me: I don’t know. Fruit. Yogurt. Juice. Vegetables. Toilet paper. That’s about all I can think of.

 Becky: What meals should we make this week?

 Me: No idea. It would be easier if we didn’t have the pickiest little eater on the planet.

 Becky: I know, but we have to think of something.

 Me: Let’s just go to the store and see what they have (as if it has changed or something) and we will figure it out or maybe get hit with a flash of culinary inspiration as we browse the aisles.

 Becky: <sigh> Alright.

Of course, we end up getting the same food staples we usually buy and are forced, about 2-3 days into the week, to head out and grab more groceries or grab something quick at a drive-thru.

Now, the drive-thru option really wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I happen to be married to a Fast Food Connoisseur.

If you were not aware of this condition of heightened palatable sensibility, let me explain.

These individuals seem to believe a local drive-thru establishment is actually more like a 5 Star Restaurant. There are endless possibilities and options in the preparation and additions to the “course” they are ordering from the “maître d/server” whose voice comes booming through the speaker and they plan to carefully consider and take full advantage of each one.

As the driver, it is usually customary to take the orders of each person in the vehicle and relay those to the drive-thru attendant. However, the FFC will often utilize the “lean and yell” technique, which is pretty much exactly as it sounds and signifies their lack of confidence to get all the variations of their order correct.

Once the order is placed and re-confirmed a few times (due partly because of the complexity of the order and also to the static coming through Francois’ speaker box), the driver is able to proceed to the next window.

This is usually the part where my anxiety hits a high point. It is at this moment when I remember what is about to happen when we get the pick-up window…added requests for a month’s supply of condiments.

Now, there is no leaning over at this point. It is on the driver to ask for the 10 extra secret sauce packets, 6 ranch dippers, 40 ketchups (for our small fries order), 1 mustard (that one is mine), 8 relish packets and, if the eatery happens to have chicken tender meals, 1-2 of each of their variety of dipping sauces.

I love my wife and will do anything to make her happy, but I always give my most apologetic look to the worker as I am rattling off my list of requests on behalf of my FFC as I know adding this many items to the list at this point in the transaction is probably a little mentally exhausting and unwanted.

(Also, I have a clear understanding of the lack of satisfaction that comes with working these types of jobs and am a little nervous they are going to give the “spit in this guy’s order” secret signal after we put them through this ordeal.)

So, hopefully you can see, and possibly identify, with why my anxiety hits a high when I realize we are going to hitting a drive-thru. I am still incredibly impressed with the culinary masterpiece my wife is able to create from something as basic as a fish sandwich on a fast food menu, but I am just a little too nervous as too what “extra special” ingredients the workers are giving us because of it.

Anyone else have a Fast Food Connoisseur in their family?

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