I really, really love you. I love your crunchy ice. I love your styrofoam cups that never sweat, even in the Tennessee humidity. I dream about you every time someone hands me a hot coke in Europe…or brings me two ice cubes, treating frozen water like plutonium.
But you’re starting to piss me off.
Every day I pull into your drive-in near my house and say the same thing.
“Large diet coke with lime, that’s all.”
And everyday the little voice in the box replies:
“Do you want tots with that?”
For a moment, let’s ignore the fact that the voice asks me if I want tots after I’ve clearly and firmly said “that’s all.” Let’s focus, instead, on the food item the voice thinks I want at 8:15 a.m.
Tots. Greasy fried bits of faux potato.
Why in the name of OreIda do they think this is my side item of choice at that time of day. Especially when they have these items on the menu:
Sausage, Egg and Cheese Toaster
Bacon, Egg and Cheese Toaster
Ham, Egg and Cheese Toaster
Breakfast Toaster Combo
(They also have Pancakes on a Stick, but clearly that item is worthy of a blog all its own.)
Why, with all that eggy cheesy goodness on the menu, do they try to force tots down my throat? I haven’t had a tot since elementary school. I’m not going to start now. For the record, I haven’t had fish sticks, jello or Kool-Aid since then either.
So, dear Sonic voice-in-the-box, when I say “that’s all,” I mean “that’s all.” Not “Oh, I forgot, I want some greasy fried bits of faux potatoes.”
I’ll see you at the regular time tomorrow.