I was just sexually harassed at the Burger King drive-thru.
The person who took my order through the speaker sounded like a woman. But something wasn’t right, so I refrained from my typical Kansan “Thankya Mam.”
And I was right.
What greeted me at the window was an extremely effeminate Hispanic guy. He took one look at me and I thought “crap!” because I knew it was on.
He was all smiles as he handed me my food. Then he handed me the drink with the back of his hand facing me so that I would touch his hand. I tried to avoid this and getting my drink felt like a game of Jenga.
Push from below and slide up…
But even as I artfully got the drink out of his grip he still caressed my fingers. Blech.
Then came the shake.
I ordered a shake.
WHY did I have to order a shake?
No more shakes. Ever.
“Oh you had a van-neela shake!” he said, extra smiley.
“Yes, I did,” I said.
He starts toward the shake machine, then does a half turn and coos, “Well, I’ll give you the van-neela!”
WHY?!
I avoided eye contact when I snatched the shake and resisted the temptation to speed off dramatically, screeches and all.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.
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