Tripping w/Mickey Drive-Thru
Dennis Mahagin
Yes, I’m ready to order now … I guess
I’d like an Egg White Delight.
Can you pour some tartar sauce on the side?
At the drive-thru, buddy, nobody
gets to see you.
Yes … And a medium coffee that’s not so hot.
I don’t mean not so hot, like, as in not
good. I mean, your coffee is okay …
It’s just too hot.
I can’t stand my own kitchen.
Can you dump some ice cubes in there? In the coffee, I mean not
the kitchen … obviously not the kitchen … shit, are we getting off
on the wrong— … What?
No, I don’t require assistance.
Am I gonna get an Egg White Delight in this life?
Yes, I’m aware …
Where the second window
goes … Oh ho ho …
No,
I don’t wanna talk to your manager.
Freakin’ voice I’ll never see … I was in the infantry.
Hue city … Khe San … nothing’s fair … not
that it matters. Second window, yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s move on …
Look, on second thought … I hate to change … but
can you give me a large compressed paper cup of your tartar sauce?
Maybe shove a straw in there? About 32 ounces of that shit.
Candy striped, I love it … yes
what’s that?
Sure, I hear the car horns behind me son
but they’re sort of stuck …
They’re out of luck …
At the drive-thru, nobody sees you …
Fuckin genius …
Voice … Disembodied … Second window, yeah, yeah
yeah, like you said. It’s empty, it’s empty all of it, empty,
empty,
empty …
Never see me around here again.
I mean hear.
Hear me, hear ye …
Here, I mean …
okaaaaaaaaay
Just don’t forget to pull out … pull out … pull out, pull out the … pull the motherfucking
Canadian bacon
out of my Egg White Delight!
Can you shove a couple hash browns in there? Oh, I know this don’t feel right …
Hell, even though I’m wasting
away … precious … You still there?
Don’t I know it.
Without your tartar sauce, it all turns to anger … pretty quick …
It’s not funny, son, not a bit
most ricky tick, most ricky tick …
tell you what, buddy
is anybody …
Like to jam down, ’fore I pay, ram my Audi broadside
into that old yellow dumpster yonder. Put a device up
my ass, it’s too early in the morning …
Jesus Christ, MacGyver!
That’s right, ignore me … Ignore me, ignore me now … I want you to.
I served my country in Vietnam.
I took ears … And worse, much worse shit … the ears are only what I can admit.
Everybody took it…
Don’t mean nothing. Sold a brown bag to a pawn shop in Dothan, Alabama,
Metairie, Louisiana …
Look, the point … I took the hell out of booby traps …
For you … copy that?
I’m gone stick this twenty bill to your window here, with some spit.
And wait … still
over there
by the picnic table …
Fucking A Jackson, chill, chill, I don’t care if I starve. Worse ways to go, believe it …
Oh, roger, don’t make me …
Fooling yourself, if you think you’re standing up.
I’ll be over by the picnic table … Square things with you, me …
Take your time, ’cause your coffee is hot, like my cheeks get, somebody pushes my—
I served my country!
Southeast Asia.
Heard of it?
You pour that shit on purpose … go ahead …
CALL THE LAW!
And tartar sauce, tartar sauce, tartar sauce, tartar sauce, tartar sauce, please don’t—
Hate my own kitchen, and pissed off, at time that’s passed, and passing …
Look, I’m only fucking with you: every breath is gravy. And your tartar is unique.
It’s kill, I love it. I love all this shit.
Semper Fi, oh Mac Daddy, had a farm.
Eeeee yai …
Could you fill up a whole brown bag full of that chunky flesh-colored elixir? Fucking sweet tartar sauce, it’s grace before there was any, Lord be with thee, don’t forget. Don’t make me come in, smoking barrel, fill up with regret.
I be over by the picnic table.
Hey now … are those sirens? … in the near distance … singing for me?
Fucking bangers and mash
IS ANYBODY IN THERE?
Tomorrow, I guess … we’ll see … Sun, dying still of the evening, shell
of a man: it’s the last, the last you ever hear
from me.
believe that shit
and you will.
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