Easy street blues
April 13, 2003
The news clipping is barely legible now, even though it’s only a few months old. It was one of those little novelty blurbs that will probably show up in “News of the Weird” at some point, but my clipping is a real-live Associated Press story, one that, sadly, has dominated my life ever since I clipped it.
The story: A man in Mill Valley, Calif., orders extra biscuits with his dinner at the Kentucky Fried Chicken drive-thru. When he opens his biscuit bag, he finds two bags of pot instead. He gives the pot back to the worker and gets his biscuits. Apparently this guy really loves him some biscuits.
Mr. Biscuit Lover then called the cops, who arrested the KFC employee. The subsequent investigation revealed that the employee was using the drive-thru to sell pot, and that Mr. Biscuit Lover had inadvertently used the code for “I’m here to buy pot, not chicken” when he ordered his dinner.
OK, I’ll give you a minute to get over the fact that he gave the pot back in lieu of some biscuits. I don’t know about you, but this just doesn’t seem like a good trade. Unless they’re hash biscuits, or something.
What the little story DIDN’T mention, and I think this is the most important part, was: What exactly did the guy say? What was the code for “two bags of pot?” It seems like “Extra biscuits” would be a little bit too commonplace for a code, but who knows? Maybe this drug dealer wasn’t fully on the ball.
I’ve never bought drugs from a fast-food drive-thru, but I’m certainly not opposed to it. And before you start telling me that drugs are dangerous, consider this – which do you think does more damage to your heart, arteries, and stomach: A big joint or a Big Mac? Exactly. Moving on …
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Clipping this article out, I’m thinking, hmmm, this certainly can’t be an isolated incident. There must be drugs available from every fast-food place in town, you just have to know the right code word.
And so it began.
“Welcome to McDonald’s. May I take your order?”
Um, yeah. Can I have a Big Mac with extra, uh, special sauce?
“What would you like to drink?”
Did you hear the special sauce part? And pickles. Don’t forget the green, green pickles. You follow?
“What would you like to drink?”
And no sesame seeds on my bun. Or sesame stems. Just some good, sticky bun. Know what I’m saying?
“Please pull forward.”
I drove through at Burger King and ordered the Italian Chicken Sandwich with EXTRA oregano. I got nothing.
Wendy’s: “I’d like a Junior Bacon Canna-burger with REALLY CRISPY chicken NUGGETS. Dude.”
Taco Bell: “Look, I want some tacojuana, some burritojuana, a chalupajuana supreme and an order of nachojuanas. I’ve got cash.”
I decided that maybe some face contact was what I was missing, so I headed to Subway, where I ordered the “Red Wine Vinaigrette Club” while pantomiming taking a very large hit from a very large bong. I faked a cough, waved imaginary smoke from my exhale, pretended to stare glassy-eyed into space, then I danced a brief little freak-out dance and finished my performance with a big, knowing wink.
I got a Red Wine Vinaigrette Club and a personal visit from the manager, but no drugs.
Dammit. Maybe word got out. Maybe that Mill Valley bust ruined it for the entire fast-food drug trade. That’s a real shame, but it’s not like there aren’t other places to buy drugs.
(Next time: “I’ll have the Denny’s Senior Belgian Waffle Slam … with extra SLAM, nudge, nudge!”)
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