I’m So Bloggin That
We just back from getting our free root beer floats from Sonic. 8PM to Midnight tonight, if you missed it.
We pulled into the Sonic at 3 minutes past 8. People were swarming all over the place. It was a mix of classic cars, pedestrians, pickups and minivans. Everyone - and I mean everyone - was ordering root beer floats. Through the window we could see the float maker making as many floats as would fit on a single plastic meal tray at a time.
My wife was driving and she leaned out the window to push the red button. 30 seconds goes by - the light is flashing on and off behind the button, reminding us that she already pushed it. Eventually, the girl punches up our space, “welcome to Sonic, can I take your order?”
My wife replies, “three free root beer floats, please.”
“Is there anything else?”
“That’s it.”
“$2.97, that will be right out.”
My wife and I are puzzled, but we wait. Car hops are carrying trays full of root beer and ice cream goodness out to the hordes of people all around us and on the patio deck.
“Oh, look,” I tell my wife as a car pulls in next to us, “that’s the kid’s soccer coach.”
“Oh, yeah it is.”
I joke about going over and talking to the coach - she had to drive a whole 5 miles to get there. We’re laughing and in a generally good mood, watching the continuing stream of sugar shock that passes by us. And then the coach leaves. She just got her floats, three or four of them. Ours have to be next, we were here at least five minutes before her. Another car pulls in just as quickly as the space is empty. Another few minutes goes by and my wife again leans out the window toward the shiny red button of free floats.
“Welcome to Sonic may I take your order?”
“Three root beer floats please.”
“Anything else for you?”
“That’s it.”
“Those will be right out.”
“Watch,” I tell my wife, “those kids next to us will get theirs first.”
“If they do, I’m ordering again. And I’ll keep ordering three floats every ten minutes until they bring them.”
Root beer and ice cream stream by on red trays. The driveway is packed with cars headlight to tail light, the occupants drawn like moths to a flame - a flame made of soft serve ice cream. That young couple next to us gets their floats. We watch every tray to see if there are three cups. A couple of car hops find their targets - not us. This makes two cars that came in after us who got their floats and left.
“That’s it, I’m not waiting ten more minutes. I’m ordering three more right now.” She leans over pushes the button. I can see the girl taking our order. She knows we haven’t left, she has a perfect view of the parking space.
“Welcome to Sonic, can I take your order?”
Where’ve I heard this before? “Three root beer floats, please.”
“Anything else for your?”
“That’s it.”
“They will be right out.”
Well, we certainly hope so. We also hope that they won’t be bringing us an entire tray of floats. We wait.
Finally, our three floats arrive. I lean over and tell Jade, the cute blond car hop, that we had to order three times and that two cars that pulled in after us got their orders first. She smiles and tells me that it’s “chaos” in the kitchen. As she turns to leave I notice the third car in the space to our left is getting theirs. I guess slot 19 was not our lucky space.
