Would You Like Fries With That?
I am a fire investigator for insurance companies. A few days ago I was at a fire at a super common fast food restaurant helping another investigator process the scene and dig.
All the fun parts of my job without any of the responsibility or report writing. I was in black coveralls and my black Carhart with a baseball hat and a regular N95 mask because fires and fast food restaurants are gross, you know?
I looked in no way like a restaurant employee. Even with the black clothes you could tell I was covered in soot and debris—and what restaurant employee wears an N95 that’s been stained black?
I was standing outside in the parking lot with another investigator that was there and we were chatting, taking a break from being in the grossness from inside.
The parking lot has been filled with debris. On one end of the parking lot there’s a 9 foot tall pile of random burnt stuff.
On the other end of the parking lot in front of the drive thru are all the roof ventilation systems that are half burnt and melted in a big pile along with a whole assortment of burnt stuff.
There’s caution tape everywhere.
There is fire debris haphazardly strewn throughout the area. There’s a very visible hole burnt in the top of this building. There’s a fire engine parked at one entrance of the parking lot with their lights on blocking the entrance.
There was no way to misunderstand what had happened at this building. Unless you’re the world’s biggest idiot.
A man in an old van drives by with his window down slowly staring at us. He has this inquisitive look on his face. He drives past the first entrance, then attempts to turn into the entrance blocked by the fire engine.
He backs out, turns around, then turns back into the other entrance, headed right for us. I say us, but the other investigator wisely caught on to what was about to happen and whispered “good luck” and hauled his behind back inside, leaving me alone with van guy.
Jerk.
Anyway, van guy drives around the big pile of ash and stops in front of me. He says, “Hey… what happened here?” I replied for what feels like the millionth time in my career, “There was a fire.” He says “Oh, what started it?” And for the millionth time I replied, “That’s what we’re here to find out.” He says “Oh ok.
Well can I have a cheeseburger and a medium fry?”
Trying very hard to not say what I truly wanted to say which was some variation of “Do I look like a fast food worker?” I told him that no, there was a fire, you can’t have a cheeseburger.
He then proceeded to ask “Well, can I have a large Coke then?” Again, no there was a fire, you can’t have a Coke. You know how you can see when someone has a moment where they have a moment and it finally clicks?
This guy had that. He looks at me and asks very intently if I work there. I say no, I’m here investigating the fire. He then asks another stupid question, and I’ll never forget it.
“So they’re closed. But why?” Feeling like I’ve met the universe’s densest star, I replied because there was a fire. He finally just says, “Oh ok.
Well bye.” And just drives away and out of my life. I’m still not sure he truly understood why he couldn’t have his food.