Off French Fries and Grape Soda

 It was a fine working day for me. Well, every working day is, not to say physically exhausting, but the mental load I have to bear is quite humongous, since it's my first week handling cases alone. It didn't dawn to me until this incident that all of that might have taken a toll on my psyche, or maybe it's just a process through my learning curve to deliver this job.

I went home with a craving for fried chicken from this new fried chicken franchise that just opened. Well not to say I have tasted this one before, at least not here. I actually have tasted it in its original country when I went for Umrah few years back. Yes, it's Al-Baik chicken. I loved it back then, since they injected the spices into the chicken before they fried them, making the spice literally seeps into the chicken.

Having though that, I went to the place, and ordered a set. I ordered a 2 piece set, with grape soda. As they take their own sweet time to prepare the food, and my patience are running thin, when they call my number, I just went to take the to-go order without checking. I was excited to jump start eating the fries in my car while driving home. I started my car straight away and drive. At the first red traffic light, my hand reach for the fries from inside the plastic bag, only to notice they're not there. "Maybe its inside the chicken boxes", I thought, and look, but sure enough, it's not.

My eyes started to get misty. I want my fries! Where's my piping hot fries? I've been craving for fries for about a month now, so imagine my disappointment when it's not there. I flipped. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this hormonal woman who's on her period flipped over some fries. I turn my car around back to the chicken joint while tears running down my dark brown crystals.

When I reached the place, I take a few deep breath to calm myself down. I get out of car, went inside the joint with the plastic bag containing my recently bought food, and the workers are puzzled to see me there. I went straight to the empty counter with a stern expression and voice, I said "There's no fries. And garlic sauce". I look at them, to see if they're listening. They nodded, straight away prepare my fries. "... and I ask for grape soda, NOT orange soda", I take out the orange soda and put it on the counter. Realising their mistake, it took them less than a mere minute to prepare both fries and grape soda. When they put it all in my plastic bag, I said "garlic sauce", still the same stern face and voice. They give me a larger container of garlic sauce instead of individual one, which I'm sure its because they felt guilty. I reach for the plastic and checked for everything, and with the same stern expression "thank you", I take the plastic bag containing the food and storm out of the joint.

There it is. I'm a happy woman now. I got my fries. All is right with the world. To be completely honest, I have half a mind to give the worker some piece of my mind for not checking my order properly, but I give them a pass. It's my mistake too for not checking before I get to my car. I usually do, though. I think my stern, tear stained face has been enough they they remember to check orders before giving them to other customers.

So, that's the end of the story. Not to say its a big story, but I can't seem to get it out of my mind, thus me telling it here. Have a great weekend folks! 

Xo xo