I tried a new strategy for ordering fast food. This happened at a food court in a shopping mall in Chatswood, just north of Sydney (offered as further proof that I don't make this stuff up- it's all real).
I selected a place called Oporto and stood well back from the counter while I reviewed my plan in my head.
I decided to go with the Rappa (a spicy chicken wrap). I didn't really want a chicken wrap - but I was scanning the menu on the wall behind the register and:
1. It's two syllables. Rap-pa. I can't screw that up. The girl at the register will get that without me having to repeat it 3 times - louder and louder each time. Some of the other items look better - but I'm going to stick with two syllables until I've got some
wins under my belt as they say.
2. It's the first thing listed. For some reason they don't have numbers in the box with a picture and short description, but this would have been number 1. It's in the top left corner of the grid. The spot reserved for the Big Mac Value Meal or the Whopper - that spot.
While I was reviewing my plan - I noticed the girl taking orders was looking at me and saying something in my direction. I ignored her because I was outside the imaginary arch that defines the engagement zone. I was in the safe zone for passers by and the undecided who are not ready to engage in the ordering process.
Talk all you want, sweetie. I'll decide when I'm going to step inside this arch and then you can help me. I'm in command here. I'm going stride confidently up to you to tell you that I want a "rap-pa". I'm going to say it once and I'm going to say it clearly and then your hand will move that that machine in front of you and you are going to push that button. After you push that button you are going to mutter a bunch of questions and I'm going to say "no thank you" every time. I won't know if you are asking me if I want tomato sauce (ketchup) or if I want a drink or if I am going to dine in or whatever. "no thank you" with a confident smirk is all you are going to get.
I know exactly how much a "rappa" costs and I calculate exactly how much change I should get. I remind myself that she may be asking me questions that I won't understand - but as soon as she presses the "rappa" button on that register - she has two tasks to do: give me change, and hand me a bag with a rappa in it. Done. Walk away. Victory is mine. I won't have to squint and lean and plead and say "huh" multiple times. I won't have to trust whatever change she gives me. I am the alpha male and I am in command of this transaction. I'll buy a drink in the vending machine. It's not efficient - but it's dignified.
"Let's do this" as I step into the engagement zone. With the steeled determination of a gunfighter I focus on her hand - watching for it to move toward the button. Ignore her lips because her words will confuse and distract...
"Biddi bi dibbbity?"
"Yes, I'd like the... Rapp-uh, ....please" ('yes, I'd like the???? that wasn't part of rehearsal!!! stop improvising and get back on script)
No movement at all. Her hand doesn't even twitch.
I exaggerate the tilt of my head to make it obvious that I'm looking at the very first item at the extreme top left of the wall behind her. "Rapp-uh. Yep. I'll be having the ..... Rapp-uh" - Like I'm talking to myself out loud and I give a confirming nod like I'm validating my choice to myself while giving her time to find the #1 button on the register.
Nothing.
I stare in disbelief. Silent. I'm not saying another word until she presses the button. Awkward time passes and I'm not listening to her but she is probably muttering her syllables that have no "f" sound and no "th" sound and instead extra syllables in their place so her tongue can get caught up. And rage starts to build inside me. It must be showing on my face because she actually looks scared of me and starts to panic.
She looks over her shoulder at the pictures on the menu and she is desperately trying to figure out what a "yesudlikdarupuhpliz" is.
My mind is racing -
are you shitting me? it's the first one! nothing else even sounds anything like rappa! Nothing else even has close to 2 syllables. Look! It's right there...!! Can't you see it? Don't you press that button a hundred times a day?
... even though there are no numbers on the menu I move closer and lean over the counter and I hold up my index finger "number one" and then I point at it. How can she miss it?
Nothing. It looks like she might actually start crying.
I realize that from her perspective I am a menacing giant, hulking over her. And, to make things worse, even if she was following my "number one" logic - I just told her number 2. You see - in most countries outside of the US - the thumb counts.
This reminds me of something that happened to me a few years ago - I learned about the "thumb counts" rule while in Europe and I tried it when ordering two beers in Austria. Don't do this without practicing in front of a mirror. Even though the thumb counts - you don't have to jab it into the air - it needs to be in a kind of a natural, relaxed position. Otherwise, as I found out, people are a bit taken back by the crazed American waving the imaginary finger gun around in the air to get the waiter's attention. Don't believe me - then you try it and see what happens.
Somehow she composes herself and figures it out.
"D-r-d-r-d-r-drapp-ah!" She exclaims with pride. A perfect rolling of the r's. "Yeah, rapp-uh". My r's won't roll. Defeated. I give in. Full surrender. No alpha male. No command. A defeated gunfighter with no bullets in his fake finger gun...
Yeah, I'll have sauce. huh? this one? no. Huh? Diet Coke. Huh? Huh? I'm dining in today. Dining in. yes, here. How much? Ten how much? This one or the big one?
I did the walk of shame away from the counter. A line had formed behind me now. We didn't look at each other. I was looking at the ground and they were riveted on the board. Rehearsing. Writing their own scripts. Planning their strategy. I asked an Australian friend if he has the problem. "Yep, mate. We all do". I'll let you know if I ever make it through this process with dignity. Not on this day.
