Today’s post was supposed to be about the lost art of snow shoveling. But it can wait. I would like to regale you with something that happened to me yesterday. Please understand that this is a true story, and not embellished in the slightest.

Yesterday, as my house filled with the piquant aroma of a vegetable stew simmering in my slow-cooker, I looked up from my work realizing I needed tomato and beef bouillon. I texted my son to let him know I was headed out to the produce store and predictably, he asked if I could bring him back some lunch.

No stew? I asked.

No stew. Taco Bell, he said.

Ugh, fine, I answered.

The road Taco Bell resides on houses several fast food restaurants and banks, and I was careful to pay heed to signs and entrances. When I finally pulled up to the drive-through, the lanes were not moving at all. I watched as several cars in front of me actually pulled out of the drive-through lanes.

Admitting defeat, I thought. As my son had already ordered his food from his phone and paid, I had no choice but to wait.

And wait I did. I waited, and waited, and waited. I had never seen a drive-through line take so long. I texted him to complain about the delay, and to provide the insight that perhaps they were short workers. He apologized for wasting my time, and thanked me for taking time out of my day to bring him food.

Satisfied, I continued to wait. After twenty minutes, the lanes began moving and branching off, and I wondered how the outside lanes got their food. I had never been in that drive-through before, and thought there was some kind of methodology I was not privy to. I stuck to the left lane, and soon I was blocked in on all sides with the building on my left, and two lanes of cars on my right.

My inching forward was excruciatingly slow, but soon I finally turned the corner. I wondered where the ordering station was, so I could give the cashier my son’s pickup order number, but there didn’t seem to be one, or a menu either. It was all so strange, but familiar. Like I had been there before, but couldn’t place it. Had Taco Bell changed its ordering procedures?

WHAT WAS GOING ON?

I finally arrived at the window, and turned to the cashier, hoping she could shed light on my befuddlement. As the sliding drawer came towards me, I got a quick glimpse at its contents.

A TD Bank pen. I had spent a half hour in the TD Bank line.

I turned to the cashier and said, as casually as I could muster,

“Nothing for me, thanks.” And drove away.