Driving a car is fun. Food is also fun. Food in the car is the most fun! That’s why I have this increased affinity for drive-in switches, especially in my favorite fast food restaurant McDoof The pleasure of this self-service version of eating on wheels, however, is greatly reduced by the quality of the intercom system. Intercom? I am convinced that she got this name because it is completely designed against speaking. “Bechelun hip here. From experience, however, I know that the voice (male? female?… probably rather male!?) at the other end of this can phone just inquired about my order. Order now would be too boring for me. Therefore, I ask a question first: “Do you have something of the chicken?” From the speaker sounds a hard-to-understand word, but it clearly ends with “…icken”. I answer : “Maybe later, at first I want something to eat.” A little louder it sounds back: “GET!” I can’t wait to say: “No, I’d like to pick it up myself.” A short break arises, I imagine the annoying face of the McKnecht. As the speaking break threatens to become too long I say: “Oh, you my chicken! No, I don’t. Do you have a press cow with tomato tusk in roast rolls?” “Hamburger?” asks my invisible counterpart back. I reply accordingly: “No, I’m from here. But does that have an influence on my order?” “Wol-len Sie ein-en H-a-m-b-u-r-e-r?” “Now calm down! Yes, I’ll take one.” “Shit?” “I was right after my last meal here. Meanwhile, however, my intestinal flora is well again, I think I can risk it again.” The voting owner starts to feel a little sorry for me. He can’t do anything for the job. But I don’t … “Whether you’re a cheese a uf the hamburger would like!?” “Ahja, gladly. I take a medium-old Pyrenees mountain cheese, not too thickly cut, slightly melted from one side.” Whether the next announcement from the speaker is “Sure but” or “A…loch”, I cannot exactly hear out. However, more clearly it sounds: “What about it?” “Yes, yes. I would like to have these salted fried potato sticks.” “So fries?” “From me also those.” “Great, medium, small?” “Mixed. And exactly to one of them.” I understand this question, again very loudly formulated, clearly. It demands an honest answer: “If this is the condition to get something to eat here: Yes. So: shall we continue?” The voice snatches briefly and asks: “Good, good. Something to the fries?” “A nice entrecôte, bloody, and a glass of 1996 Pinot Noir, please.” “I COMM TO GET YOUR GLEICH AND BETWEEN YOU!” “Do you want to do this?” “Would you like to do this?” , but please don’t spill the wine.” “Close now, switch two, four euros fifteen!” Already over. Just when it starts to be funny. But I still have an as in my sleeve. I pay with a 200-euro note. “Sorry, but I don’t have it bigger.” PIEP! … Friendly I get countered: “No problem.” With a cold look a well-protected gentleman lets my change on the steel counters clap. Not with me, friend! I want the triumph! So time for the fin! ale: “Can I please get a receipt?”, I ask overfriendly. “Is a business dinner.” Have fun trying out! Michael