While standing in line, I was tapped on the shoulder.
I took the cell out of my ear and turned around.
“Excuse me, sir, but your conversation is bothering me,” said a woman in a large floral print dress.
“Your conversation. Could you take it somewhere else?”
I put the phone back to my ear. “Hey honey, would you hang on just a second?”
“I’m sorry to intrude, sir, but I’m trying to concentrate on my order.”
“Let me get this straight. My conversation was keeping you from concentrating on whether you want to order a Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder with cheese. Am I right?”
“You don’t have to take it personally,” she said, straightening her shoulders.
“Oh, I’m not taking it personally. If I were taking it personally I would point out that the cheap perfume you are wearing is giving me a migraine and the fact that you are occupying about 85% of my personal space is giving me the willies.”
“Are you implying that I’m overweight?”
“I don’t want to further complicate your deliberations, but you might want to add a McSalad to your menu options.”
“Well, I never…”
“Tell you what,” I said, putting the phone to her ear. “How about you talk to my wife and I’ll place your order?”
Premium Southwest Salad with Grilled Chicken
(inspired by a writing prompt from Today’s Author)