On the road in which I journey to work every morning (Vietnam Veterans Bypass or aka 386), since school has begun, the traffic has grown immensely.  This is not a surprise to me cause it always does this. 

Every single morning, when I get on the Bypass and go about a mile, it becomes all bottlenecked for the rest of the 4 miles or so until 65.  I finally figured out why it gets so clogged up and then eases up past Conference Dr.  You know what it is?
That stupid, electric sign that says “Air Quality Alert-It’s hotter than hell outside” or something like that. 

If the sign had an Amber Alert on it, ok, that’s worth slowing traffic down to look at.  But if there’s anybody in the State of Tennessee who doesn’t realize it’s hot and to take precautions, ain’t no electric sign going to help you understand that.

It’s sorta like that weirdo I bumped into at McDonalds the other day….I went into the Music Valley Dr. McDonalds, which should have a sign out front that says “We have the rudest workers in Nashville right here!”  It’s really no wonder the place was empty.

Sos anyway, there was nobody in McDonalds and it was lunchtime.  I stood.  And stood.  And stood waiting for Quanesha and her co-worker  to finish their conversation before I was waited on.  Finally, they took my order, I got it and went to the table.  The ketchup dispenser was out.  I left my food on the table, took my purse with me and went back up to the front and asked this woman who appeared to be a manager (she had on a different color top than everybody) if I could have some ketchup.  She never acknowledged my presence.  Didn’t say “Well, sure”, “No way” nothing.  I was about to ask her again when she picked up the ketchup box and threw it at me, never saying a word.  Good grief.

Then, I go back to my table with the food (remember, nobody was in the place) and there’s a man sitting at my table, with my food.  He was somewhat scruffy looking so I’m assuming (I know, profiling…sue me) he was homeless or something.  I didn’t say anything, I just glared at him and he said “Oh…is this your table?”  Did he not see the tray of food?  He didn’t mess with it or nothing.  He asked me if it was my table and I gave him a Holy Tara, half-eye roll, half nod as if to say “Der-duh-dee” and he said “Oh.” Then he got up and moved to the next table. Like I was going to sit there.  I moved to the other side of the place. That was so odd.

Take it from your Sista….stay away from McDonalds on Music Valley Dr.  Heck, stay away from McDonalds.

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