The Impossible Question

I went with Bionca to put in our deposit for our new apartment this morning (see the next post for details), and we went to McDonalds for breakfast. McDonalds is doing this promotion today where you can get a free chicken biscuit with a drink purchase. I like the ones from Chic-Fil-A, so I figured that I would get it and see. When I placed my order, the woman told me to come to the first window before I had finished giving my order. So I did, and then I gave my order again. The whole time she didn’t seem to be paying attention to me, and I had to give it all over again.

Okay, so maybe she is hard of hearing. I can understand that. I am too. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

So I was hungry, and didn’t want a tiny little biscuit so I ask the woman about the size of it, and she says “How am I supposed to describe that?”

WHAT?! Are you fucking kidding me? This is what you do. You think back to when you last saw one. You figure out how big it is compared to your hand. You then hold your hand in a way that you would when you hold the biscuit, or use two fingers to indicate dimensions. It’s not like I fucking asked you to perform some boundry value problems, you asshat! My two year old god-son who doesn’t even talk yet could answer that fucking question. You could have just fucking shown me one!

Please, whatever you do, do not vote, and do not breed!