Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Lunch at Arby's

After my family makes spaghetti, we usually have it for leftovers for two or three days. We just reheat the sauce and boil up some new noodles. Today, though, we had left over noodles but no sauce. Not wanting to make something for lunch, I just headed into town an hour earlier so I could pick up some lunch.

I was about to pull into Arby’s when I spied a car that was driving on the sidewalk. It was lucky that I saw it, because I would have hit him. Apparently this old geezer had pulled into the entrance to the next business. So he missed Arby’s. What he should have done was pull out into the road and attempt to come in the correct way but he decided that since no pedestrians were on the walk-way, that it would do. So he manages to pull in and I follow him. Then, this guy stops. Is he still confused? Is he still in the wrong driveway? I see him look over to his wife and they start to have a conversation! I was about to honk the horn at them but his wife noticed me and urged him forward. I swiftly got into a less desirable space rather than continue to follow them.

I went in and gave my order. A Number One—roast beef sandwich, curly fries, and a medium drink. Amazingly quick service for 12:30 in the afternoon. I was just getting seated when the old couple comes hobbling in. They eventually get their food brought out for them and unfortunately, they were sitting in the booth behind me. They had annoyed me and I wasn’t thrilled to still be near them.

A couple of booths down, a woman who looked like she had Down’s syndrome was sitting with a bucket of cleaning fluid. As soon as a table was vacated, she would immediately clean it up. Every now and then she would grunt and make other odd noises that turned all of our heads. The last time I had been to Arby’s, I had noticed another mentally handicapped working. I was impressed that this particular number would hire the handicapped. Although, some people are uncomfortable around them, I am glad that they are doing something. The work isn’t glamorous but it’s something that they can do… and with this particular person, do well.

“Look at that gal,” I heard the guy behind me say. “They shouldn’t let her work here.”

Now I could have taken this two ways: one sorta positive, the other negative. Still I couldn’t help but see that this old coot was somehow knocking on this working woman. At least she isn’t out there causing accidents. She’s here cleaning up our mess.

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