Dog in the Burger

Stopped for a burger on the way home from the beach one day at a burger restaurant. Took thirty minutes to get our order as usual. There’s no such thing as Fast Food in some of these places; I could seriously get a three-course cooked take-away meal from a Chinese Restaurant quicker than a burger meal at certain places.

So, while ordering for our family, I watched with interest and growing dismay as a guy waltzed into the restaurant followed by his dog. No, the dog wasn’t on a lead and no, the guy wasn’t blind – well, he certainly was blind to Health & Safety Regulations. He looked around for a bit, (the guy, not the dog) then decided to join a queue while the dog also looked around a bit; scratching and sniffing and making important decisions.

The guy waited – perfectly patient for his turn, however, Poopsy wasn’t so patient, and after a bit of looking about, found a very old lady wearing a cream linen skirt tottering to a table with her tray laden with a chicken burger, fries and hot tea more interesting. I blinked in horror as the dog proceeded to jump up onto the lady trying to grab her tray. I wondered where the manager was, and caught sight of her sauntering around nonchalantly as the poor lady kicked in vain at the dog; who had decided firmly on a chicken burger, fries and hot tea to go with a cream linen skirt as an appetiser.

Poopsy had obviously been to burger restaurants before as after his losing battle with the lady and the tray, decided to order for himself. He jumped the queue, (my queue, of course, of course,) and put his paws on the counter beside me. I felt sure he had a long wait ahead because number one, I’m certain I saw a sign out front stating that due to new Health & Hygiene Laws and Hierarchy Codes, dogs would no longer be served in fast food restaurants; and number two, I was first, and I told the offending creature this.

After ordering our meals I felt obliged to ask the teenaged staff member was she aware that the Health & Safety Regs probably restricted dogs from not only ordering food in restaurants, but would likely deny them entry. She nodded reluctantly in that, ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, kind of way but eventually spoke a quiet few words to the (ignorant) manager who’d been hovering about cleaning and straightening things, whilst the dog demanded service. She’d even looked at him at one stage earlier, possibly trying to decide how much money he had. She eventually shrugged at the assistant and crossly deposited the decidedly crosser Poopsy outside; probably only irked because I’d had the nerve to complain. The Frenchman who owned the dog was not amused by all this palaver and went outside to have a conciliatory word with his dog before heading back to order. Lucky for her I wasn’t the under cover Food Standards Representative!

I wondered later if putting old fashioned, Brains and Common Sense on the menu in future might help.

 

[Previously Published no WordPress October 2007 and in What Brainstem, by Smashwords © July 29, 2011]