Just because I find it an amusing story, and with the added benefit of being true:
Once upon a time I worked at one of the liquor stores here in Dinkytown just as an excuse to get out of the house and interact with people directly rather than as text on a screen. It was fun. Everyone was happy — even if you’ve just had a shitty day, when you walk into the liquor store and see all of that self serve psychotherapy on the shelves your day gets better immediately. It might have helped a bit that I’m a cheerful guy; many customers would drive right on by when the cranky old bitch who also worked there was holding the fort.
One fine evening a tourist pulled up to the drive-up window and asked, “Where’s the nearest McDonald’s?”. So I told him: “Pull out of the lot, turn left onto the highway, and it’ll be on the right in about 45 miles”. “Four or five miles?”, he asked. “No, forty-five miles”. He looked at me like I was being a jerk for answering the question he asked. “Okay then”, he said, “how about Burger King?”. “Turn right onto the highway, right again at the traffic signal, and it’ll be on the right in about, oh, three miles”. “And how far is that in total?” he asked. “Oh, probably about 52 miles”.
He was not so amused as I was. “I just want a fucking hamburger”, he told me, “So where’s the nearest place I can get one?”. “That’s easy”, I said, “turn right onto the highway and it’ll be on your right in about 200 feet. But you’ll have to walk in because there’s no drive-through”. He said “thanks” as he pulled away but I didn’t think he really meant it.