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I had this dream of a drive-thru world

The ultimate convenience for me is to never have to get out of my car. I feel most at peace behind the wheel, fat ass firmly entrenched in the well worn groove formed by thousands of hours of motionless piloting of a motor vehicle. I’m not speeding, just moving, in some semblance of forward, with the radio blasting, this week it’s a Misfits revival, and I’m laughing in my head at that viral video I saw last year ofGlenn Danzig getting knocked out by a fat roadie. I take sips from a big jug of some beverage on my right, wedged between seats or balanced on an armrest, and comfortably lean an overly-tan-for-an-Irish-guy left arm out the window to my left. I watch the never ending line of commuters passing in the oncoming lanes, and curse at the idiots I’m forced to travel with in my own lanes. I’ll talk on the phone with friends to pass the time, tell them to hold on, and scream out the window at another driver, talking on their cell phone while driving. And in that instant, whether it be a 2 mile trip to Wal-Mart or some god forsaken shit hole in Florida 1000 miles away, I’ll be content.
And hands down, my favorite part of driving is using a drive thru. Drive thru ANYTHING. Hamburgers, banking, hand jobs, milkshakes, sex toys, liquor, drugs, ATMS, puppies, there isn’t a thing I can think of that wouldn’t be better received from the driver’s seat of my car. The convenience, the lack of needing to use my legs, the convenience, not having to get out of my car, the minimum of human contact, I find it all quite appealing. I have had instances while driving where I was starving, so very hungry, like 2pm-haven’t-had-lunch-yet-and-breakfast-was-at-7am-hungry. I’ve pulled around a McDonald’s or Burger King only to find they didn’t have a drive-thru window. As a matter of fact, there is one area around me where NONE of the fast food places have drive thrus, talk about the definition of useless. Maybe it is a local law or something? Regardless, no matter how hungry I was, no drive thru=no stopping. I may be hungry, but I’m not getting out of my car for any restaurant that isn’t willing to serve me in my car, just on principle. And like many who cling uselessly to principles, I’ll starve just a little longer.
And let’s not even start on all the things I have often wished were equipped with drive-thrus. I mean, come on, just how convenient IS a “Convenience Store” that I have to open a door to enter? I’m sure 7-11 would benefit from a drive-thru service window, but they would need several, and maybe have one of those pneumatic tube systems that banks employ, but the tubes would need to be bigger, big enough for a gallon of milk to fit in. Or, if not tha,t maybe robots, little robots to run our items in and out of the store. Well, maybe robots are expensive, but midgets work for skittles, so they would be great cheap labor to take orders at drive-thru convenience stores, bringing us our cigarettes, condoms, lottery tickets and Taquitos. But robots would be faster…Have the Japanese started making robot midgets yet?
A drive-thru doctor’s office would be wonderful, especially the “turn your head and cough” part. A drive-thru gym might take some extra thought. Drive-thru lawyers almost sound like they should already exist. Drive-thru massage parlors, too. And drive-thru psychiatrists would be great, I have a much easier time telling a stranger my problems when they are trapped in the passenger seat of my car anyway. How much easier would grocery shopping be if you could sit in your car while the eternally backed up deli counter slices your lunch meat and then hands it to you through your driver’s side window? Way easier, that’s how much.
My first car was a 1989 Buick Regal. My second was a 1999 Buick Regal. I tell you, the elderly know how to travel. It was like driving in my living room. Spacious and comfortable in the front seat, with tons of leg room, and the back seat was big enough to have sex in multiple positions in one session, with minimal head injury. I could live in either of those cars. Sitting, eating, fucking, there is really only one other thing I need and I am set. I wouldn’t have to leave my car…Ever.
Hence my dream, a dream I dreamed one night while falling asleep and wishing I had a cheeseburger, or some tacos, but I didn’t want to get out of bed, I wanted to just…DRIVE my bed to a drive-thru for some late night snacking in my boxers and sweat-stained t-shirt. As I hungrily drifted off, I found myself on the open road, behind the wheel of a massive, luxurious car, with a sofa for a front seat and 42″ flat screen for a dashboard, and when I lifted one of the seat cushions, there was a toilet seat, but there was no water, just a hole to the road whipping past below the car. If I was thirsty, there was a refrigerator in the center console full of Pepsi Max.A small microwave hung from the roof of the car, and each time I pushed a button, buffalo chicken cheese steaks would come out.
I was naked, but not a sexy naked, more like an “I’m just out driving naked”-naked. And this wasn’t like those other naked dreams I write about because I wasn’t running from squirrels that wanted to steal my testicles. No, this was a natural, operating-a-motor-vehicle-naked-because-that’s-how-I-roll dream. I could go anywhere, the roads were endless and wide, and the car drifted as if on a cloud. There were no one way streets, no stop lights, no old people clogging up the highway with their “I’m old so I’m entitled to make you wait cause I’ve lived longer” attitude. Every stop I made, for groceries, or gas, or fast food, or erotic massage, I just pulled up to a building with a window, and a smiling robot midget asked what I wanted. And whatever it was, they served it to me, naked in my car, and it was glorious. I’ve had wet dreams that weren’t as awesome as the world I envisioned. I’m kind of surprised I didn’t nocturnally-emit a lil’ on this one, to be honest. But even if I did, my car was equipped with a never ending supply of warm, moist socks to clean up any random ejaculants. Ejaculants? Is that  word? Spell check says no, but my perfect drive-thru world says yes.
I awoke that morning feeling well rested, with visions of my utopia still fresh for hours in my head. Each time I had to open my car door and step out, I was reminded of my perfect world, and felt a little sadder to be alive in this unfair society that expects us all to walk around in fresh air with clothes on, using my limbs like some sucker, and no robot midgets for erotic massage.

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The Incapable Wrecked-Um About The Incapable Wrecked-Um

Recipe for The Incapable Wrecked-Um: One full Angry Irish Aries 1/2 shot Cynical Apathy 1/2 shot Combative Mediocrity 1/2 bottle Jameson® Irish whiskey Sit Angry Irish Aries on couch. Crush his spirit with Combative Mediocrity and Cynical Apathy. Pour 1/2 bottle Jameson down his throat. Repeatedly kick in groin until surly, but malleable. If he cries, kick him until he stops.

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