Why I'm boycotting Jack-N-the-Box

Where I work, Jack N the box is basically my neighbor. This is a privilege.



This privilege is both a good thing and a bad thing.



Good- coffee close by.

Bad- mini churros close by.



"Back again," the boy in the window asked after I returned for my second time, exactly thirty-seven minutes, following the first round of breakfast I was sent to pick up for the office.


"I'm not sure what you are talking about,' I said, seriously.


I thought he was gong to faint.


"I swear you have been here already this morning," he said matter-of-factly.
He was totally buying my big fat lie, which made me feel slightly better about abusing the privilege.



"I'm sorry, but it must have been someone else." I said.



He removed his headset and put both hands on the window and looked me square in the eye, "I swear I seen you , this is weird!"



I laughed and gave in, "I'm kidding." I confessed.



He chuckled, nervously, " here's your coffee," he said.
"Watch out, its leaking everywhere."



And before I could even think, I replied, "that's what she said."
NO, NO, NO ROXIE! You have overstepped the line, this boy is like twelve!



I was mortified.


And I think he was too because next  when I asked him for Splenda he stuttered and said they only have half-and-half.



And then he asked if I wanted creamer, too.




And that's why I wont be vising Jack N the Box again.



Ever.