Today was the third birthday of two of our dogs, Chowder and Chubbs! For each of our dog’s birthdays, we always treat the entire herd to their own individual double cheeseburger without pickles from McDonald’s, and this birthday was no different. Ya know, I was shocked my mother-in-law had a cat who lived to be 18 years old, but with this kind of birthday diet it’s no wonder our dogs don’t live past age 10.
After spending an hour and a half this evening at Toys R Us, trying to find something for Bug to spend his allowance on (plus extra cash he managed to weasel of out his grandparents by crying, who would do almost anything to make him smile) I was exhausted. In fact, I was so exhausted Hubbit and I decided it would be a great night to let the kids eat fast food to avoid cooking dinner. Since we’d already planned to stop by McD’s to get the birthday double cheeseburgers without pickles, the kids agreed to eat there as well.
When we arrived, the kids and Hubbit ordered their food and we all sat down. I can’t eat McD’s so I was just sitting there, almost half asleep, when I realized we’d forgotten to order the treats for the dogs. Oh no! While my family grubbed, I went back to the counter to place the special birthday order.
Behind the counter was a sole male teenage cashier, to the left were two female teen drive thru attendants and in the rear were a handful of workers preparing the food. Each of the workers was calmly tending to their individual tasks, without complications.
As I walked up to the counter, I also noticed the manager salting the fries. His nametag read, “Jeffrey”.
Just as I was ordering our traditional dog birthday double cheeseburgers without pickles, all chaos broke out behind the scenes. Within a short span of thirty seconds, employees started screaming demands at Jeffrey the Manager from every direction.
They needed $5 bills, manager codes for the register, drinks and more beef! Pronto!
Jeffrey the Manager moved with fluidity, gliding across the McDonald’s tile to smoothly fulfill every employee need, without saying a word. He moved to the right and with one swift moment, grabbed the cups from an overhead shelf. He spun around to the front and within five seconds had the money drawer open and ten $5 bills counted, quickly placing them into the hands of the cashier. Right after the money exchange, he wooshed over to the drive thru register and typed in his manager code with what seemed like a typing speed of at least 100 wpm. He then slid to the back of the store and magically appeared with beef for the cooks, with only seconds having passed. Wow!
I was HIGHLY impressed at his ability to handle himself, his employees and customers with great ease. He never let the pressure get to him! As I returned to the table with my bag of heart attacks, I immediately started bragging to Hubbit about Jeffrey the Manager.
It went something like this:
Me: Wow! You should have seen him, honey. He never let the intensity get to him and just whirled around the floor, getting whatever people needed with such grace and agility.
Hubbit: Are you joking?
Me: No! What a high stress jobs these fast food managers have! Who knew?!
Hubbit: (Silence coupled with an irritated glare of total disbelief.)
Me: I feel so bad for him having to deal with all of this stress each day. It must be really difficult to deal with.
Hubbit: YES, honey. Being a fast food manager must be INCREDIBLY stressful. (Roll of the eyes and heavy sarcasm.)
I sat there for a moment, trying to process why Hubbit was not feeling Jeffrey the Manager’s plight like I was. How could he be so heartless?! Poor Jeffrey!
All of a sudden, I realized how dumb I must have sounded to him.
For a brief moment, I’d completely forgotten who I was married to.
I COMPLETELY FORGOT I was married to a person who did not skip a beat when we unexpectedly arrived upon an enflamed car smashed into a highway tree on our way to Virginia Beach a few years ago. While I was breathing and counting through panic attacks from just watching from the sidelines, he was busy saving some poor woman’s life who apparently drives worse than I do. Imagine that.
I COMPLETELY FORGOT I was married to a person who was only a few days ago tending to people with bullets lodged in their bodies, a person who has seen the gruesome results of a person being smashed to death by a 750 pound piece of concrete and a person who has pulled numerous lifeless bodies out of cars.
I COMPLETELY FORGOT he risks his life each time he clocks in at the fire house, whether he’s entering a 1200 degree fire or simply entering a stranger’s house without a weapon, to tend to drug overdoses, suicides, shootings or worse things he doesn’t dare to even mention to his scaredy cat wife...all for modest wages, unappreciative citizens and a government who has done everything in their power to make his department miserable for the past few years.
I COMPLETELY FORGOT I was married to my very own Superman.
Needless to say, just as the original Superman most definitely would have been, MY Superman was highly offended by the fact I was impressed with Jeffrey the Manager’s high stress “skills”.
I may be the most insensitive firefighter wife alive. Seriously.
Although I have a REALLY hard time admitting when I’m wrong, I have absolutely no problem apologizing for my stupidity. So...sorry honey!
Your “superior Superman stuff” deserves to be glorified. (FYI: An inside joke that’s not even slightly as vulgar as it now sounds.)
Whitney
"Take all the fools out of this world and there wouldn't be any fun living in it..." (Josh Billings)
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