This post is dedicated to my friend Matt, who never has a good fast food experience.
Moo and I stole some homophobic chicken.
We didn’t mean to steal it.
Have you ever accidentally stolen anything?
I ordered the food.
The young man gave me my food.
He said thank you, I said thank you — it was all very nice.
I drove away.
About five minutes out, I asked Moo, “Didja put the change in the thingy? I only want the bills in my wallet.”
(Moo is inexperienced at sitting shotgun. I gotta check.)
Moo stared at me blankly.
I looked down.
My twenty still in my lap.
“Oh! No! He didn’t cash me out! We have stolen this chicken! I will go home and call them. Surely they will take payment over the phone.”
Plagued with chicken guilt, I called them.
They didn’t answer the phone.
The phone rang so long that eventually, an electronic man asked me to enter my authorization code.
So I called their customer service line.
Customer Service did not want to charge me, either, they only wanted to file a report.
I had to eat that guilty chicken. And guilty fruit. And I had to drink an entire Cherry Coke. It was all delicious, but in that way that feels a lil dirty, ya know?
Have you ever accidentally stolen anything from a business?