Views from the Drive-Thru

by eamanda

The view from the drive thru window, how can I explain?
I spend my days waiting on people that are mostly lazy or insane.
For I work at the window of a convenience store drive thru
And I see and hear things most people never get to.

They drive up in their cars, and before I can open the window,
They are yelling they need honey buns, chips, and a large coke zero!
Others I ask what they need and then run to get the lot
And when I return they tell me 8 more things they forgot.

Then there are the ones that are picky about how to mix their drink,
And if you put in the wrong kind of ice you have to dump it in the sink.
Sometimes I will get the occasional fashionista
Who expects me to mix her cappuccino like a Starbucks barista.

In the summer they shout their orders from inside a car with cool air,
As I stand helping them from the window with sweat soaked hair.
In the winter I stand freezing, with snow blowing in my face,
While they count out their change at the slowest possible pace.

Each day I take snack orders from pot heads and tweekers
And try not to spill any pop on my sneakers.
I once had a customer drive by on her way to give birth
Because her husband asked her to pick up his beer first.

Sometimes, I wish I had gotten a counseling degree
When people pull up and pour out all their problems to me.
I have learned the best way to deal with a breakup or loss of a pet
Is a large mountain dew and a pack of menthol cigarettes.

I always give a treat to any puppies that come through
But don’t give a sucker to a child unless asked to.
For if I give them orange they whine for cherry
And if I have none their parents get really angry!

Sometimes my customers must believe they are in France
Because they think it’s ok not to wear any pants.
I get carloads of customers with five separate orders
And see people with vehicles so full of junk they could star on Hoarders.

People sometimes wonder at my unhappy tone
When they ignore my questions because they are on the phone.
Don’t get me wrong, some can be really nice
But then another yells because their drink has too much ice!

And just as my day begins to fill me with angry bile
A sweet little old man comes through and makes me smile.
At least working the drive thru is NEVER a bore
And I guess I should end this poem and complain no more.

But if you ever come to the drive thru and my face you see
Please, be nice and don’t throw anything at me!!