McGhetto

Last weekend we decided to get McDonalds as a family (shocking, I know.) So we pull into the drive-thru right at the really busy dinner hour with a million other people, with five people pulling instantly in behind us. It was at this point that we remembered our driver's side automatic window had stopped working a few days earlier and wouldn't open, even a crack. Seeing that we were trapped, we started laughing as we realized what this meant. We pulled up another foot so that our window was well past the order screen so Bill could open the door. It was so ghetto I could not stop laughing. And it was the really feel-good kind of laugh where I could not stop. Bill could barely get out the words to place our order.
We wait our turn to get to the first window, still laughing at the knowledge of what was to come. The girl stood and watched us drive past her. I'm sure she thought we were forgetting to stop and pay, but, no, Bill needed to be able to open the door enough to reach his hand through. I was laughing so hard by this point I thought I was going to wet my pants. The teenage girl taking our money started laughing and was still laughing as we pulled off, closing our door.
Finally, the third stop on our white trash joy ride: The food window. Again, the worker watched us pass the window and then stop and open our door. I am laughing uncontrollably, he doesn't crack a smile, but asks us to pull into parking space #1 to wait for our order. Sweet. We get to do this again.
So, once again, we open our door to get our food from the worker who brought it out. I seriously don't think the guy even realized it was weird that we didn't just roll down our window. Them's are some bright ones, those McDonald's workers.
So, we finally pulled out in our Ghettomobile with our food and I am still laughing as we get on the freeway. Why can't all trips to McDonald's be that much fun?