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Not quite a cookie monster, but close.
So, today I stopped in at Subway on my way to work. It's either that or Wendy's because the very last thing I want to do on a day that I work is cook something before going in. Besides, getting some restaurant food makes up for the fact that the next twelve hours are going to be spent scrutinizing little plastic doodads, looking for mutations, flaws, and doodad defects.
Anyway, there was a family ahead of me in line who were having a little trouble with the whole sandwich process. There was a woman who looked to be in her 30's or 40's, a woman who was in her late teens or early 20's, and a little girl. The little girl was causing the trouble.
First, she was entranced by the door buzzer, the one that *dings* every time someone goes in or out of the entrance. This meant that while the two women at the counter were busy asking for things that weren't on the menu or in the array of sandwich toppings -- such as garlic powder -- the little girl was *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding*-ing the door.
Then the girl joined the women at the counter and proceeded to talk, at length, about cookies. The poor girl behind the counter seemed new and was getting flustered at the complicated order the women had finally decided on, and the little girl was not helping the situation. Let me illustrate...
The girl was trying to ring up the order, and the women, who were completely ignoring the little girl, were correcting the counter girl at every turn. And amid this, the little girl kept interjecting her desire for cookies.
Counter Girl: And drinks?
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Woman: Three drinks.
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Counter Girl: Five drinks?
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Woman: No, three.
Little Girl: And chocolate chip cookies -- three of them, no four, no five!
And so on. Meanwhile, my order had been completed and was being put together. God help me, it included two cookies. The little girl saw this and asked if those were her cookies, then demanded them. She was reaching for them when the other clerk snatched my sandwich and cookies in their little plastic basket out of her reach.
And thus it went. No attempt to correct the girl, let alone any to tell her to be quiet. You could see the counter girl getting pushed closer and closer to the edge, and it must have come as a relief when the family, little girl in tow, finally pushed off... with 12 cookies.
After that came another family with two little boys, one of whom shrieked and ran back and forth across the restaurant and the other who stood in the middle of the floor and proceeded to bust several moves in time to the Usher song playing on the sound system.
And after they left, finally -- finally -- I could enjoy my sandwich and cookies in peace.
So, today I stopped in at Subway on my way to work. It's either that or Wendy's because the very last thing I want to do on a day that I work is cook something before going in. Besides, getting some restaurant food makes up for the fact that the next twelve hours are going to be spent scrutinizing little plastic doodads, looking for mutations, flaws, and doodad defects.
Anyway, there was a family ahead of me in line who were having a little trouble with the whole sandwich process. There was a woman who looked to be in her 30's or 40's, a woman who was in her late teens or early 20's, and a little girl. The little girl was causing the trouble.
First, she was entranced by the door buzzer, the one that *dings* every time someone goes in or out of the entrance. This meant that while the two women at the counter were busy asking for things that weren't on the menu or in the array of sandwich toppings -- such as garlic powder -- the little girl was *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *ding*-ing the door.
Then the girl joined the women at the counter and proceeded to talk, at length, about cookies. The poor girl behind the counter seemed new and was getting flustered at the complicated order the women had finally decided on, and the little girl was not helping the situation. Let me illustrate...
The girl was trying to ring up the order, and the women, who were completely ignoring the little girl, were correcting the counter girl at every turn. And amid this, the little girl kept interjecting her desire for cookies.
Counter Girl: And drinks?
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Woman: Three drinks.
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Counter Girl: Five drinks?
Little Girl: Chocolate chip cookies -- five of them!
Woman: No, three.
Little Girl: And chocolate chip cookies -- three of them, no four, no five!
And so on. Meanwhile, my order had been completed and was being put together. God help me, it included two cookies. The little girl saw this and asked if those were her cookies, then demanded them. She was reaching for them when the other clerk snatched my sandwich and cookies in their little plastic basket out of her reach.
And thus it went. No attempt to correct the girl, let alone any to tell her to be quiet. You could see the counter girl getting pushed closer and closer to the edge, and it must have come as a relief when the family, little girl in tow, finally pushed off... with 12 cookies.
After that came another family with two little boys, one of whom shrieked and ran back and forth across the restaurant and the other who stood in the middle of the floor and proceeded to bust several moves in time to the Usher song playing on the sound system.
And after they left, finally -- finally -- I could enjoy my sandwich and cookies in peace.
Which reminds me many years ago I was at the zoo with my exboyfriend admiring the seahorses.A small child was asking its father over and over 
)
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