Eminem and Crazy Chicken

The other day, I was coming home from work, and I was feeling a little grumpy. I had my husband's car, so I decided to take advantage of his incredible sound system to help cheer myself up on the way home. I put on an Eminem CD. Now that's not what I listen to normally, but when I'm in a bad mood, he cheers me up. His cuss filled rants make me giggle. I know that's probably not what he had planned, but I can't help it. I know that no matter how mad I get, I'll never be Eminem mad.

When I got on the freeway, I turned the music up so loud that the rear view mirror was vibrating, and my heartbeat actually changed to match the beat. I was giggling and bopping along to Eminem's potty mouth lyrics when the blue tooth interrupted with a phone call from my hubby, cutting the music off. I told him he interrupted my concert, but he was on a mission. He was really angry and had a cuss filled rant of his own ready. Apparently, some truck driver had almost crushed him on his way home from work, and he wanted to give me the exact details filled with some colorful wording.

I had worked later than I had planned, so I had decided to stop by Pollo Loco on the way home to pick up some food for the family. I figured the call would be over by then, but Hubby was still ranting on and on about the truck driver. His anger was still in full force when I pulled off the freeway and made my way to the drive through at Pollo Loco. I thought that he would be finished cussing by the time I got to the speaker to order, but I was wrong. I started trying to cut in as I inched closer to order. It went something like this...

         

Me: "Honey"

Hubby: "Bleeping bleep truck driver was looking at his bleeping phone. Bleeping look where you're driving in your bleeping bleepity bleep 18 bleeping wheeler, you bleeper!!"

Me: "Honey I'm trying to order food. You have to stop. Honey. Honey!!"

Pollo Loco lady: "Welcome to Pollo Loco. Can I take your order?"

Me: "STOP TALKING!"

Pollo Loco lady: "I'm sorry. Just order when you're ready."

Me: "Not you Pollo Loco lady. My husband."

Hubby: "Who are you talking to?"

Me: "I'm trying to order dinner. Stop talking for a minute."

I was able to order my food and decided to apologize again to Pollo Loco lady when I got around to the window for my husband's sailor mouth and for her thinking I told her to stop talking. As I explained the situation to my hubby on the phone, he thought it was hysterical that he had embarrassed me. That only lasted for a few minutes though before he went back to cussing about the truck driver.

As I was pulling up to the window, I started trying to interrupt his monologue again when the phone started to cut out. Really, I couldn't have planned it better. The call dropped right as I reached the window (although hubby swears I hung up on him).

I heaved a sigh of relief when the call dropped just as I reached the window. I opened my mouth to apologize to Pollo Loco lady as she opened the window with an awkward smile. Unfortunately, I forgot one small detail. Now that the blue tooth call had dropped, the stereo kicked back in. Eminem returned full blast in up close concert volume. It was so loud without the road noise that my first response was to cover my ears instead of hitting the volume. The part of the song that was playing was full of particularly nasty words that I'm sure could be heard throughout the entire restaurant, while setting off every car alarm within one square mile.

I quickly recovered and nearly snapped off a finger trying to adjust the volume. Because hubby's sound system is so sensitive, you have to turn the knob about 200 times to actually get the volume to change significantly.

By the time I got Eminem under control, my face was beat red, and I didn't even want to look at Pollo Loco lady. But I had to get my food, so I glanced around. She looked every bit as shocked as I had imagined along with every single person working in the kitchen. They were all staring at me with the exact same look on their faces. I'm glad I couldn't see the people sitting inside eating and made a mental note not to look in the windows on my way past.

Neither one of us spoke as I paid and collected my food. I think I finally squeaked out a pathetic "Thank you," and rode home in silence. On the upside, when I told hubby what had happened, he was laughing so hard he forgot all about the bleeping trucker.