Now I get the exciting joy of dealing with something worse than 'dine-in' morons----the infamous 'drive-thru' morons. Fortunately, I'm just collecting money at the first window, or so I think at first. Even though we tell people to stop and pay at the first window and we even have a sign that says please pay here, most of them fail to do so. My conclusion is that they are morons.I get my exercise by running money between the window. Running makes me think of the funny clown pants I have to wear. They look awful. Thinking of my funny pants makes me think of my workshirt. Usually there's little flecks of ice cream across my chest due to the dastardly shake machine. That knave.
One day I tried to conduct a very unsuccessful experiment with the shake machine. I was making a shake and I noticed the little notch to set the cup on. So I was wondering what would happen if I let the cup go. Moments later, there's ice cream on my face and clothes, and on the walls, ceiling, and floor. I noticed, however, that there was very little ice cream left in the cup. I wondered what could cause such a phenomenon. I walked away acting like I didn't know what happened.
