Oh, just give me anything.

We were in a KFC -- remember, I don't eat chicken, or any meat, but sometimes KFC was the closest eatery -- trying to order lunch. Everyone there spoke English, but Brian had trouble not only with the accent of the person taking his order but with the softness of his speech. It's pretty funny when English has to be translated for an English-speaking person, but it does happen.

Brian was tired of saying "pardon?" and cupping his hand behind his ear. He was ready to tell the person to give him five dollars worth of anything. Could a person faint from hunger in a restaurant, simply because he couldn't hear the responses?

I had my own ordering problems that particular day. I wanted mashed potatoes (no gravy) and corn. No one comprehended that. I got the potatoes but no corn. Ronda said that they don't serve corn. Strange because there were kernels of yellow corn in my veggie bites, along with the peas and cheese. Besides the salt and deep frying, it seemed that another nutritional problem with the veggie bites was that they were probably shipped frozen from a far-away place. I tried to ignore the negatives of all of that and was successful in enjoying my lunch. I tried, though, to calculate how many orders of little veggie bites I would need in order to pick out all the corn to get a good serving.

Ronda translated for Brian and the cashier, as well as for me. Ronda smiled and punctuated the finished order with, "Shop!" At least that's what it sounded like. I asked her, and she had to translate for me. She was saying an accented "sharp." A great descriptor for a lunch experience.