"Is it lean cut or — actually, you know what, can I get the egg and cheese sandwich but with the egg whites only, and if there's a multigrain option for the bread that would be amazing, and is the cheese real cheese or a processed cheese product? I ask because the sodium content in processed—"
"It's American cheese."
"Okay. Okay. So what about the combo platter — what does that come with?"
The woman looked at her. London looked back with full sincerity, as though this were a reasonable conversation to be having through a drive-through window at seven fifty-eight in the morning.
"Hash browns and coffee," the woman said.
"Are the hash browns shredded or formed?"
"Shredded."
"See, I actually prefer formed, because the shredded ones have more surface area so they absorb more oil, and I have a sensitivity to—" She stopped. She turned to me. "Do they have oatmeal?"
"No," I said.
"How do you know?"
"I've been here before."
She turned back to the window. "Could you potentially do a side of fruit? Or — no, that's not reasonable, sorry, ignore that. Okay. The combo platter. But could I do egg whites in the platter?"
The woman at the window stared at her.
"We make it the way it comes," the woman said.
"Right. Right. Of course." London sat back. Sat forward again. "Could I get a side of hot sauce?"
"It's in the bag."
"Two hot sauces?"
"They're in the bag."
"Great. Perfect. And a large coffee, please, with oat milk if you have it, or almond milk, or honestly any non-dairy — no? Okay, black coffee is totally fine, I drink it black sometimes, this is one of those times, I'm very flexible."
I ordered a breakfast burrito and a black coffee and two hash brown orders because I knew her and pulled forward.
London looked at me when we cleared the window. "That went well."
"Did it?"
"She was very helpful."
"She was."
"I thought we covered a lot of ground." She was quiet for three seconds. "I've never done that before. Ordered at a drive-through."
"I know."
"It's different than I expected. There's a—" She gestured at nothing. "There's a rhythm to it."
"There is."
"I'll be better next time."
I handed her the bag when it came through. She pulled out both hash brown cartons, opened one, took a bite, made the face of someone confronting the gap between their expectations and the actual sensory event, and then kept eating.
