Order 2580

It was an early spring thing, the snow, then the sun, then the rain, then the snow again. I could see the cycle continue through the little sliding window I stood by. I went from sweating in my thin shirt to pulling on the thinner DUNKIN embossed jacket, keeping the glass open for only a moment to hand things out and take cards to swipe before closing it with a “Yourthingswillbereadyinamoment!”.

So imagine my surprise when I watched the snow flurries so thick I could hardly see the furniture store twenty feet away, vanish, vaporize, fall to the ground in a torrential drop of liquid. I thought I was seeing things, and continued to doubt my eyes as a split appeared, loud and crude, on the blacktop in front of me. I opened my mouth to call for Brian or Zac, but no sound came out.

Instead, the noise I would have made was replaced by an almighty cracking sound, and pieces of my drive through fell into an abyss, colored lava orange and sickly yellow. The smell of rotten eggs filled my nostrils and I staggered away from the still closed window, blinking back tears.

When I regained focus, I jumped, the view from the window now obscured by a man, standing there. He was staticy around the edges and had a face, almost, kind of. I guess he didn't. He almost couldn't. Where his mouth must have been, I felt the words flow instead of hearing them.

Mobile order for the Prince Of Darkness.

Immediately I went into customer service mode and was picking up the receipt for one double chocolate donut and a pink velvet macchiato (large) before I knew what I was doing. I opened the sliding glass tentatively to hand it across the window's threshold. The service industry couldn't be far from hell, I heard myself think.