I Ordered the Chicken

Saturday night, Ty and I went to a crawfish boil. The party was at a friend's camp, better known as Cowpatty. I'd been there a few times before,  but the location was new to Ty. "Oh yeah, I could definitely live here," he said as we pulled up. It's a gorgeous spot on a private pond with plenty of land and a big, cozy camp house. 

Even though it was a crawfish boil, neither of us ate. I'm sure Ty didn't want to mess with them because he would be playing the guitar once it got dark — crawfish fingers don't really go with guitar playing. I didn't eat any because I was too busy chit-chatting with some girls I never see. Before I knew it, the batches coming out of the boiling water were firey hot with spice and too hot to my liking. 

So, needless to say at around 11:45 when we left Cowpatty, we were exhausted and starving. We didn't know which fast food places would be open, but it didn't really matter as long as it was hot and quick. Whataburger is always a sure bet, so we headed in that direction, ordered and high-tailed it to the house. 

We got home and sat down to eat. I ordered a chicken sandwich and Ty ordered the chicken strips, but neither were found in our bags. Instead of a chicken sandwich, I had a plain burger and instead of Ty's chicken strips he had a plain burger with bacon. Talk about aggravated. You almost want to kick yourself for not checking the bag. 

Sure, I've had my order messed up before. I've been shorted a chicken nugget, denied a requested packet of sauce and been forced to eat the onions I'd previously said no to. But, I've never had every bit of my order wrong — down to the drinks. 

"Is that Dr. Pepper?" I asked Ty. 

He took a sip. "Ugh ... I don't know what that is." 

"I think it's a suicide."

Our order had clearly been switched completely with another car's order. You honestly could not consciously mess up an order to this extreme. We ate, longingly thinking of our chicken that someone else was eating while probably thinking of their hamburgers. 

I think this irks me more than I realize. Here it is a day and a half later, and I'm sharing the incident with you. But doesn't it just tick you off too? You're expecting one thing and (dang it) you get another. In retrospect, I should have just eaten the crawfish.