At The Drive Thru
The man pulled up to the drive-thru speaker, his stomach growling in anticipation. The smell of fried food wafted through his open window, mingling with the warm evening air.
He adjusted his cap, adorned with the insignia of his old military unit, and glanced at the clock on his dashboard.
Just a quick meal, he thought. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was something simple to eat before heading home. But he had no idea how difficult a simple task would be.
Ready To Order
75-year-old Jeremy Ferrin pulled up to the drive-thru window, his stomach rumbling with anticipation.
He had been craving a greasy cheeseburger all day, and the thought of biting into one was the only thing keeping him going through the long workday.
He rolled down his window, inhaling the scent of grilled meat and fries as he leaned out to speak into the crackling intercom.
A Hungry Man
As he pulled into the drive-thru of his favorite fast-food joint in Tennessee, his stomach rumbled in anticipation. He wasn’t sure what to order yet.
The familiar smell of fried food wafted through his car’s air vents as he rolled down the window, preparing to place his order.
The evening sun cast long shadows, painting the asphalt with hues of orange and red. He had to put his glasses on to see the screen menu.
May I Take Your Order?
“Welcome to Burger Buds. What can I get for you today?” The voice on the other end was flat, almost uninterested.
“Yeah, I’ll take a double cheeseburger, no onions, and a large fries,” Jeremy said, leaning toward the speaker.
There was a brief pause. “Anything to drink with that?” “Just a large Coke, thanks,” Jeremy replied, his tone polite but hurried. He was ready to be home. “Alright, that’ll be $8.49 at the first window,” the voice said, the static fading out.
The Cashier
There was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make Jeremy wonder if he had been heard. Then, the voice responded, “Pull up to the first window.”
Confused, Jeremy eased his car forward, pulling up to the window where the cashier, a young man with a name tag that read Zeke, stared at him through the glass.
Jeremy looked back at him and smiled. But it wasn’t a welcoming gaze. Zeke’s eyes darted from Jeremy to something on his car.
Next
Jeremy pulled his truck forward, glancing in his rearview mirror at the line of cars beginning to form behind him.
As he approached the window, he noticed the young cashier, Zeke, eyeing his truck suspiciously.
Jeremy gave him a nod, offering a friendly smile, but Zeke’s expression remained stony. “That’ll be $8.49,” Zeke said, his voice flat. Something was off with his tone.
He Stopped
Jeremy eased his car forward, his mind already wandering to the first bite of his meal. But as he approached the window, he noticed the cashier, a young guy with disheveled brown hair and a name tag that read ‘Zeke,’ staring at him intently.
Zeke didn’t greet him with the usual forced smile; instead, his eyes were narrowed, and he seemed to be scrutinizing Jeremy’s face—and his car.
“Uh, is everything okay?” Jeremy asked, a little thrown off by the stare. He was often annoyed at ‘the youth of today.’
The Cashier Waits
Jeremy handed over his credit card, but Zeke didn’t take it. Instead, he stared at the sticker on the back window of Jeremy’s truck—a simple decal with the words “Support Our Troops” next to a small American flag.
Zeke’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step back from the window. The old man didn’t have time to waste. “Is there a problem?” Jeremy asked, his voice full of concern.
Zeke’s expression hardened. “Yeah, actually, there is.” Jeremy’s heart sank as Zeke pointed at the bumper of his car.
He Spotted It
Jeremy followed the direction of Zeke’s finger and realized he was pointing at the small political sticker he had on the back of his car. It was a simple sticker, something he’d forgotten was even there.
Zeke didn’t answer immediately. He looked down at Jeremy’s car again, then back at him, his expression unreadable. “What’s up with your car?” he finally asked.
Jeremy blinked, confused. “What do you mean? It’s just my car.” Zeke’s eyes narrowed further. “Yeah, but why does it look like that?”
What’s Your Problem?
By this point, Jeremy was starting to lose his cool. “What is the problem?” Jeremy asked, his brow furrowing.
Jeremy glanced around his vehicle, a standard sedan that was a bit old but still in decent shape. There was nothing particularly odd about it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can I just get my food?”
Zeke didn’t move. He seemed to be debating something, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he shook his head. “Nah, man. I’m not serving you.”
Say It
“What?” Jeremy’s surprise quickly turned into irritation. “What do you mean you’re not serving me? I just ordered.” “I don’t feel right about this,” Zeke said, crossing his arms. “Something’s off.”
Jeremy felt his patience thinning. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m just here to get a burger.” Zeke’s gaze hardened. “I can’t help you. I need you to move on.”
By now, a line of cars had formed behind Jeremy, and he could see the drivers in his rearview mirror getting impatient. Horns started to honk. Jeremy’s irritation bubbled into anger. “Are you serious right now? What’s your problem?”
Are You Okay?
Zeke leaned forward, his face close to the window. “My problem is that you’re driving around in a car that looks like it’s been in some serious trouble. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m not getting involved.”
Jeremy’s confusion deepened. “What are you talking about? This car is fine. It’s just a bit old.”
Zeke shook his head again, more firmly this time. “There’s something wrong with it. I’m telling you, man. I’ve got a bad feeling.” But Jeremy wasn’t sure what the strange cashier was implying about his car.
Not My Problem
A car honked behind him. Zeke crossed his arms. “We don’t serve customers with political stickers on their vehicles.”
Jeremy blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe his ears. What did that have to do with ordering food?
“You heard me,” Zeke said, his tone growing more confrontational. “We don’t serve customers with political stickers. Company policy.” He closed the glass window for dramatic effect.
That’s Your Choice
“That’s ridiculous!” Jeremy exclaimed, his voice rising. “This isn’t political. It’s just showing support for our troops.”
Zeke shrugged, unyielding. “Doesn’t matter. No exceptions.” He mouthed through the closed window.
Jeremy felt a surge of anger rise in his chest. “I served in the military for 20 years, and now I can’t even get a cheeseburger because of some sticker? This is an outrage!”
People Were Looking
The tension between them was getting worse, drawing the attention of customers in the cars behind Jeremy.
Heads began to poke out of windows, curious eyes watching the unfolding confrontation. Zeke refused to talk to Jeremy face to face.
“This is ridiculous,” Jeremy snapped. “Call your manager. I’m not leaving without my food.” Was Zeke on a power trip?
A Food Fight
The rude cashier walked closer to the window. “Look, I don’t make the rules,” Zeke said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “You can either take the sticker off or drive away.”
Jeremy clenched his fists around the steering wheel, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. “I’m not taking the sticker off. It’s staying right where it is.”
“Then I’m not serving you,” Zeke retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. Jermey had no idea how much worse things were going to get.
He Pretends To Go
Zeke stared at him for a moment longer, then sighed. “Alright, I’ll get the manager. But I’m telling you, this isn’t right.”
As Zeke disappeared from the window, Jeremy fumed. The honking behind him grew louder, and he could see the annoyed faces of the drivers piling up behind him.
He waved a hand out the window apologetically, but it did little to calm their impatience. He felt so embarrassed.
Because Of You
The line of cars behind Jeremy began to honk, drivers impatiently waiting for their turn. Jeremy was holding up a line of over ten cars.
The situation was escalating quickly, and Jeremy could feel the eyes of the other customers boring into him.
“This is wrong,” Jeremy said, his voice shaking with frustration. “You can’t refuse service because of a sticker.” He was determined to stand his ground.
An Excuse
After a few minutes, Zeke returned saying that the manager was currently occupied. Jeremy shouted at him about bad customer service.
Zeke remained silent, his expression unyielding. But he looked nervous. “We don’t serve customers with those kinds of stickers,” Zeke said flatly.
Jeremy blinked, stunned. “Excuse me? What does my sticker have to do with ordering a burger?” But Zeke didn’t offer a better explanation.
Making It Up
Zeke crossed his arms, leaning slightly out the window. “It has everything to do with it. We don’t support that kind of nonsense here.”
Outrage surged through Jeremy’s veins. He was a veteran who had served his country, and now he was being denied a meal because of a sticker. “This is ridiculous! I’m just trying to get some food.”
“Well, not here, you’re not,” Zeke shot back, his tone defiant. He slammed the window again and ignored the growing queue of hungry customers.
The Bigger Man
Realizing that arguing further would get him nowhere, Jeremy gritted his teeth and pulled his truck over to the side of the lot. His hands were trembling as he reached for his phone. He needed to talk to someone who could make sense of this madness.
Other cars began to line up behind Jeremy, and he could see the drivers craning their necks, trying to figure out what the holdup was. The tension was rife, the air thick with a standoff.
“You can’t just refuse to serve someone because of a bumper sticker,” Jeremy said, his voice rising. “That’s discrimination!”
Kids Of Today
The immature cashier waved his hand at him and started tending to the next customer. Jeremy yelled at him through the parking lot.
Zeke’s face remained impassive. “You can call it whatever you want, sir. But I’m not serving you.”
Fuming, Jeremy knew arguing further with the cashier would get him nowhere. He pulled his car over to the side, his hands shaking with anger. He grabbed his phone and dialed a familiar number.
Calling For Help
The worried man dialed his daughter, Emily, and waited as the phone rang. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” Emily’s voice was cheerful, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him. “Emily? It’s Dad. I need you to come down to Burger Shack. Now.”
The woman was distressed to hear her father so shaken. “Emily, you won’t believe what just happened,” Jeremy said, struggling to keep his voice steady. He quickly explained the situation, his words tumbling out in a rush.
Somebody Has To Know
The worried daughter listened to her father’s story intently. She didn’t want to miss out on any details.
“They refused to serve you because of the sticker?” Emily’s voice was incredulous. “That’s insane!”
“Exactly!” Jeremy said, his frustration boiling over. “I’m a veteran, Emily. I served this country, and now I’m being treated like this?” But would she be able to help him?
Talk To Me
“Calm down, Dad,” Emily said soothingly. “I know it’s wrong, but getting upset won’t help. Do you want me to come down there? We can talk to the manager together.”
Jeremy sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not worth it.” He looked back at his once favorite fast-food outlet.
“Of course, it’s worth it,” Emily insisted. “You shouldn’t let them get away with this. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The game was on.
Bringing Back-Up
Jeremy hung up, feeling a mixture of anger and exhaustion. He looked back at the drive-thru, where Zeke was now serving the next customer without a care in the world.
The unfairness of it all gnawed at him, but he knew Emily was right. He couldn’t let this slide. It was not fair.
As he waited for his daughter to arrive, Jeremy noticed that some of the customers who had witnessed the altercation were now pulling over and getting out of their cars.
The Bystanders
A small group began to gather near the entrance, murmuring amongst themselves. One man approached Jeremy’s truck.
“Hey, I saw what happened,” the man said, his expression sympathetic. “That was messed up. We’re all behind you.” Jeremy nodded, grateful for the support. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Minutes later, Emily arrived, her car pulling up beside Jeremy’s truck. She got out and walked over to him, her face set in a determined expression.
A Sassy Shark
It wasn’t long before his daughter arrived. A successful attorney with a no-nonsense attitude, Emily was not someone to be trifled with.
She parked her car and strode over to her father, her sharp eyes immediately assessing the situation. “Let’s go talk to the manager,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Jeremy asked her to think about whether it was worth it. “I don’t want to get you into any trouble, sweet pea,” he said. Would they go through with the confrontation?
The Full Story
41-year-old Emily wasn’t scared and ready to defend her father. “Dad, what happened?” she asked, her tone already tinged with irritation.
Jeremy explained the situation, his voice trembling with the injustice of it all. Emily’s expression darkened with each word. “They refused to serve you because of a sticker? This is beyond unacceptable.”
Jeremy and Emily walked into the fast-food restaurant, the group of supportive customers following behind them. The air inside was thick with tension as they approached the counter.
That’s Him
Emily marched up to the drive-thru window, her heels clicking on the pavement with purpose. Zeke looked up, and his confident smirk faltered when he saw the fire in Emily’s eyes.
Jeremy pointed out Zeke out to her. “Are you the one who refused to serve my father?” Emily demanded, her voice icy.
Zeke shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I told him we don’t serve customers with political stickers. It’s store policy.” He tried to act busy with his work.
Show Me
“Store policy?” Emily’s voice dripped with incredulity. “Show me this so-called policy. Because I’m certain that refusing service based on political beliefs is not only unethical, it’s illegal.”
Zeke faltered, clearly not expecting this level of pushback. “I don’t have to show you anything. You’re not a customer.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Emily snapped. “My father is a customer, and you’re going to serve him. Now, where’s your manager?” She wasn’t leaving without speaking to the boss.
In A Corner
Zeke stood frozen for a moment. He knew that he was going to get into a lot of trouble for arguing with the customers.
“We need to speak with the manager,” Emily said firmly, addressing another cashier who looked startled by the sudden crowd.
But Emily wasn’t going to leave without seeing him. “Uh, one moment,” the cashier stammered before hurrying to the back.
The Real Manager
The color drained from Zeke’s face as he realized he was out of his depth. Reluctantly, he called for the manager.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged man with a tired expression approached the window. His name tag read Mitch.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Mitch asked, glancing nervously between Emily and Zeke.
One On One
Moments later, a middle-aged man with a name tag reading “Manager” appeared, his expression weary. “How can I help you folks?”
Emily stepped forward, her voice steady. “Your employee refused to serve my father because of a sticker on his truck. We’re here to demand an explanation.”
The manager looked like he had seen a ghost. Then he looked confused. He looked at Zeke with menace in his eyes.
Did You Do That?
The angry daughter continued ranting. “My father was refused service because of a political sticker on his car,” Emily explained, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I want to know why, and I want to know now.”
The manager’s eyes widened in surprise. “Refused service? That’s not our policy at all. Let me handle this.”
He turned to Zeke, who had been watching the scene unfold from behind the counter. “Zeke, is this true?”
A Corrupt World
Zeke shifted uncomfortably. “I was just following what I thought was company policy. We’re not supposed to serve customers with political stickers.”
Mitch looked at Zeke, who avoided his gaze. “Is that true, Zeke?” Zeke mumbled something under his breath, but Mitch wasn’t having it. “Speak up, Zeke. Did you refuse to serve this man?”
Zeke finally looked up, his defiance crumbling. “I thought it was store policy…”
Your Own Views
The manager shook his head, his expression stern. “That’s not our policy, Zeke. We don’t discriminate against anyone based on their vehicle decals. You should know that.”
Zeke tried to argue with him. “It’s not,” Mitch said firmly. He turned to Jeremy, his expression apologetic. “I’m so sorry about this, sir. This is not how we treat our customers.”
Emily folded her arms, her glare still locked on Zeke. “My father is a veteran, and this treatment is disgraceful. What are you going to do about it?”
Respect The Past
Zeke opened his mouth to protest, but the manager cut him off. “I’ll be taking over here. You’re dismissed for the day.”
As Zeke walked away, his face flushed with embarrassment, the manager turned back to Jeremy and Emily. “I’m deeply sorry for the misunderstanding. Your meal is on the house.”
Jeremy felt a wave of relief wash over him, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
A Kind Gesture
Mitch nodded quickly. “Of course, of course. Your next meal will also be on the house. And Zeke will be written up for this. It won’t happen again.”
Jeremy, still shaken, nodded slowly. “I just wanted a meal, that’s all.” He didn’t like getting free handouts and just wanted to be treated fairly.
“And you’ll get it,” Mitch assured him, shooting Zeke a stern look. “I’ll take care of it personally.” But he had lost an employee that day.
Last Day At Work
Zeke’s face was a mask of frustration and embarrassment as Mitch turned to the kitchen to prepare Jeremy’s order. Emily kept her eyes on Zeke, her gaze unwavering.
“You should think twice before refusing service to someone based on a bumper sticker,” Emily said, her voice low but firm. “Next time, you might not be so lucky to get off with just a write-up.”
Zeke said nothing, his defiance thoroughly broken. He had lost his job by trying to impose his personal beliefs on innocent customers.
Sorry Again
A few minutes later, Mitch returned with the meal, handing it to Jeremy with a sincere apology. “Please accept this with our deepest apologies, sir. We appreciate your business.”
The kind manager had included two free desserts and sodas for Jeremy and Emily. It was the least he could do.
Jeremy took the bag, still feeling the sting of what had happened, but grateful for his daughter’s support. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
Sorting It Out
The manager quickly processed their order, handing over the food with an apologetic smile. “We value all our customers, sir. I hope you’ll give us another chance.”
Emily assured him that she wasn’t going to take the story to social media and that she was willing to let it slide.
The manager said that he didn’t approve of his staff taking matters into their own hands. Jeremy nodded, taking the bag of food. “I appreciate that.”
Problem Solved
As Jeremy and Emily walked out of the restaurant, the small group of supporters cheered, clapping him on the back.
Jeremy managed a smile, though his thoughts were still clouded with the events of the evening. Two hours later, he finally got his food.
“Let’s go home, Dad,” Emily said gently, guiding him back to his truck. She intended on following him home.
Done At The Drive-Thru
As he and Emily walked back to their cars, Jeremy glanced at his daughter, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.”
He nudged her on the side like he used to do when she was a little girl. Now she was the one coming to rescue him.
Emily smiled back, her fierce demeanor softening. “Of course I did, Dad. No one messes with my family.”
Everybody Needs Someone
Jeremy nodded, the pride in his daughter swelling in his chest. Despite the ordeal, he knew one thing for sure: he raised one hell of a daughter.
As they drove away, Jeremy couldn’t shake the feeling that something had fundamentally shifted.
A simple drive-thru visit had turned into a confrontation that left him questioning how much had changed in the country he had once served so proudly.