The story goes that when my dad first moved to the United States, there were two things he was obsessed with and that further justified America's greatness: Guava Juice and McDonalds. While many of us have grown to accept it's existence without a moment's thought, having come from a third world country with nothing but rice and salty, salty fish - I can only imagine his awe.
During his 30 - something years living in the States, my father has made many trips to McDonald's ordering food and drink, happy meals for us kids when we were young, mightly kid's meals for when we were in our 20's. If there were a frequent customer card, my dad would be a gold member, or whatever the highest membership status would be.
But to this day, the drive-through is his enemy.
Maybe they've upgraded their intercom so that sounds are more crisp, resulting in more accurate orders. Although, with my dad's thick-ass accent, I doubt you would be able to understand him even with upgraded technology. They need a mind-reader or something ...
For as long as I could remember - whenever we would order through the drive-through, our orders would always be wrong.
Me: Dad where's my drink?
Dad: Huh? wut aboat in de bug ::looks in the bag::
Me: There's nothing except these large fries that didn't order along with my chicken nuggets
Dad: Huh!?! Geez dat guy, I ordered sfrite, not pries!
Me: Dad, it's f-ries
Dad: yea.. pries.. geez dat guy.....
So then I would have to tell the cashier that they got the order wrong and get it all straightened out.
Another incident, my dad made a stop to McDonald's for breakfast
Dad: ..can I get de times?
::hands lady a quarter, because that's how much it used to cost back in the day::
Cashier comes back and hands him two dimes and a nickel
Dad: no.. no no... De TIMES.... The Shuttle Times! De Newspaper!!!??
Cashier: Oooo.. the seattle times...
Dad: yea.. Shuttle ....
I can tell my dad sometimes gets frustrated that no one understands him; he makes perfect sense, to everyone else? They have no idea what he's talking about.
Over the past few years, I have taken the initiative to just order for him. It saves us the trouble of having to get our order wrong, saves the cashier the trouble of trying to decipher what in the world my dad is saying, and saves my dad the frustration of trying to communicate. It works best that way.