It’s Just Melted Cheese

I’ve spent most of my life as a very shy and retiring person. Yes, you can quit laughing now. I have obviously outgrown most of it. Those of you that know me might be surprised to the degree I have gone in the past to avoid confrontations.

The one event that jumps out at me a lot lately, is how I order food at a restaurant.

I pull up to a Sonic and order myself a burger with mayo, jalapeños, and cheese, hold the onions. Will a cheeseburger plain. In addition, I want a diet coke easy ice and a child size sweet tea.

If you have a Sonic near you, you will understand that this is an order ASKING to be screwed up. It often is. I check it very carefully and send it back if I don’t get what I asked for. I don’t even care if they have to make two or three trips out to my car. I told them what I wanted and if they take my money, they are under obligation to give me what I pay for.

The funny thing is that when my girls were little; say 15-18 years ago. I wouldn’t even ask the people at the restaurant to leave off the mustard on their burgers. It was uncomfortable for me to do so. So every time the girls would see mustard on their burgers and say something, what would I tell them?

It’s just melted cheese.

Just imagine what else I never stood up for.