So nonchalant that I almost had a go at the woman who served me at Burger King today. I am not a big fan of fast-foods, because well, I guess the food part is not exactly great at those, but I sometimes give in to the "fast" part. Order, pay, go. And there is nothing more unnerving than not being served fast at a fast-food. So, as I approached the counter, the woman did not say hi, did not look at me and was actually talking to someone else. She mumbled in her Southern drowl
Howmeaelpyom'am? (please read
How may I help you Ma'am. I placed my order, she asked me something. I said "Excuse me?" She asked me the same thing, exactly with the same words and tone (still avoiding my eyes), which led me to ask about three times what she was saying. I finally managed to distinguish, among the paté of words she was throwing at me, the word "menu".
Ah, no, I don't want a menu, thank you. I payed (without her ever announcing the price, I could have been blind, she wouldn't have helped). I then waited for my burger and my fries for ten minutes (there was, of course, nobody before me, so it was not like they were overworked).
During this whole process, not once did that woman look me in the eye or pronounced a word I could understand. Let us say that my last image of the US makes me even happier than ever to be going back to good old Europe...
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