INTRODUCING.... THE SNARKIES

To all of you needlessly rude peeps on the planet, I salute you. I “see” your snark-factor and I’m gonna raise you one now. I think it might be fun, playing your game for once. So I’m recognizing— nay, celebrating— your way of life. It’s high time someone honored your achievements in making the world a less happy place for the rest of us. Some of you are quite accomplished in your art, and you should be singled out for your inwavering commitment to various acts of discourtesy. So I present to you {drumroll, please…} The Snarky Award.

Television has the Emmy. Theater has the Tony. Movies pay tribute with the Oscar. Musicians receive Grammys. And for all you impolite losers who were raised in barns, I give you the Snarky.

The first Snarky recipient I would like to pay tribute to is the rude Sonic carhop. You know who you are... you pretend it's ten minutes 'til 2:00 so you don't have to give us "happy hour" prices on our drinks.

Let me first say that I adore Sonic. You can’t get a colder, more refreshing soft drink anywhere than you’ll consistently get at Sonic Drive-Ins. Not only do the Sonic mixologists always provide just the right fizzle-to-syrup ratio, there are dozens of add-ins to get just the flavor you’re craving. They also have the best ice in the world. And the ice stays nice and cool in the trusty Sonic styrofoam cup. The straws are even extra large for maximum intake. It’s thirst-quenching perfection. And during “happy hour”, from 2 to 4pm daily, this perfection is always half-price.

So yesterday it was nearing 2 o’clock as Brittnee and I were leaving Hobby Lobby, and we decided it would be a good idea to wet our whistles with a little carbonated refreshment from Sonic. We pulled up to the drive-thru, ordered our drinks and proceeded to the window where the carhop said, “That will be $3.58”. Ever-so-kindly, Brittnee replied, “So what time does happy hour start?” To which the carhop snapped, “It’s from 2 to 4.” And Brittnee and I, in unison, said “So what time is it now?” And the carhop retorted, “It’s like ten ‘til 2.” Ok.

Now, according to the clock in the car, it was already a few minutes past 2… but apparently in the blissful land of cherry syrup, lime wedges and fruity/fizzy drinks, the clock runs a few minutes behind the rest of the universe. And if you question her authority on the matter, the carhop will put you right in your place. She doesn't have a good humor about 50%-off drinks and wouldn’t dare discount them a nanosecond early… it's almost as if the other 50% was coming right out of her fanny pack coin-changer-thingie. Like Paul Masson will sell no wine before its time, the surly carhop will sell no half-off slushes before 2pm. I get it. Rules are rules, and our clock was probably a few minutes fast, I'll admit. But for the love of Oreo blasts, just be nice about enforcing them, please.

It’s not my fault your skates are laced up too tight and that most people are too cheap to tip you. I feel for you. Really. But anyone in a snappy little fast-food visor should dispense both fries-- and disappointing news-- with a smile. I’m just sayin’…

And so, surly Sonic Carhop, this Snarky’s for you!