A Hate Letter

Eating in the Car – A Hate Letter

(For the full story, check out Episode 8 of the Hungry Dads podcast.)

Dear Eating in the Car,

While I tolerate you from time to time, I don’t think I will ever truly enjoy you. Eating should be a pleasure. But in the car it brings only annoyance and stress. You rob eating of its essential joy, and you get my car all messy, greasy, and crumby. You are an unpleasant, miserable, and potentially hazardous creep!

So little choice. Perhaps I could enjoy some chicken nuggets – but my beloved dipping sauces? No way! Dipping while driving is worse than texting while driving! Same with French fries – I won’t endanger the road with ketchup. A burger? Sure, maybe a small one (or two or three). But my beloved large, multi-layer specialty burger? Nope. Sauces, bacon and vegetables compromise a solid hold on both my food and the steering wheel. Milkshakes, yes. Sundaes and ice cream cones, no. Tacos? Forget it. Chips require two hands unless I “drink” them. But the drinking method might obscure my vision – heck I could end up with a chip shard in my eye!

And the Drive Thru, your enabling best friend. Ordering into a metal box. I have no line of vision to see the progress or accuracy of my order. The Drive Thru attracts the worst of humanity. Here are the people I see in the Drive Thru:

  • Imbeciles, leisurely reviewing the menu while I wait, hungry behind him. This isn’t a fine restaurant – pick!
  • Idiots, trying to make perfect change. No, no, no! Let the teller handle that. They have the expertise and a whole drawer of coinage in every number and variety.
  • Halfwits who forgot to clear their drink holders and prepare a setting to receive their food. Get out of the way and move on!
  • Morons checking their orders and munching a French fry while pulling away. Gonna kill somebody!

And now, I see two-lane Drive Thrus! What kind of evil is this? While I may be smart and civil enough to properly utilize this dual-ordering system, at the first sign of any backup, this “efficient” system becomes a confusing mess!

I’ll close the bag to trap the heat, when I finally get my meal. You see, I’m saving my food for home. I’m not going to waste my time with you – Eating in the Car. You are a joyless, bleak ritual that I’ll leave to professional drivers and foolish road trippers (or anytime the fries just smell too good to wait).


Rod Budget