"the lights are still out. the lights are still out."

For one reason or another the exterior lights - including the drive-through menu lights - go out about five times a night. The darkness decreases the number of customers, which is nice.

On the flip side, we usually get about five customers that morph into Paul Revere when the lights are out. They must deliver the message, the message of darkness. My usual response is, "Yeah, that happens a lot."

But the other night, we had a lady get crazy about it. First, she told me through the intercom, "I can't see anything. I don't know what to order. Do you know that your lights are out?". Then she pulled up and started banging on the window, yelling "The lights are still out. The lights are still out!"

I decided to play along, freak-out about it too - even though I couldn't of cared less. I opened the window and yelled, "Oh, my, god. No! The lights are still out? Don't worry, I will take care of this." With that said, I sprinted to the back of the store to the light switch, flipped it on. I sprinted back to the window to build up a bit of a sweat and to make sure that I was gasping for air - add some drama, you know.

"That was totally unacceptable," I found myself saying to the lady, who nodded in approval of my mania. "I will have a serious conversation with my manager in the morning about this is serious issue. I hope this never happens again."

"I'm glad," she replied, then drove off with her small pop and breakfast sandwich.

I still haven't talked to my manager about the lights going out and I don't have any serious plans to do so.