The Royal Burger place

It had been over a month since Dave had last seen it. In fact, he couldn't even remember how it was before.

The door had changed to ones that looked more old-fashioned, with glass all over it so you could see; the walls seemed different, but Dave couldn't remember what had changed—maybe the yellow color that was now painting it?, and there were the neon signs on the outside, reading 'Royal Burger'. That did look cool.

The smell of hot burgers traveled from the kitchens through the streets, making every single customer in need of a burger. That was how Dave had gotten inside the local, because he had smelled the burger from miles away.

Dave walked to the cashier, who had gray messy hair, big swollen eyes, and a hat that read 'that with fries?', and had the typical drawing of the red with yellow fries on the back. He had a pin attached to his yellow t-shirt. Randy. The cashier's face said it all: I hate this job.

"Going to order anything?" asked Randy in a bored voice.

"Yeah. Just let me see." Dave brushed his hair back.

He looked at the different burgers that were on display. There were combos of singular burgers that had fries and soda, or there was the new burger from a superhero he watched a lot on TV when he was a little kid.

"It's going to be the Super Burger," Dave answered, pointing at the burger that had triple meat, bacon, salad, and extra cheese. It looked like the size of the Empirate State Building. And he was going to eat that.

The cashier pointed to his hat.

"What?" Dave asked.

"You want that with fries?"

"Um, yeah. And with no pickles, please. I don't like—"

Randy turned to the kitchen, "Sam! Bring me the Super Burger, because an annoying client wants it right away."

"Annoying client. What do you mean? I didn't say I wanted it right away. I just wanted my burger to be eaten here with a nice little coffee."

"Ah . . . you want me to put coffee in your order?"

"Yeah. A cappuccino would be—"

"Sorry, we don't have cappuccino."

Dave frowned. "Er, a mocha latte then would—"

"We don't have that either."

"Then what do you have?"

"Let me check." Randy hid behind the cash register, typing something into the computer. He clicked his tongue. "Sorry, but we don't have coffee in this shop."

"But you just said—"

"I never said anything."

"But—"

From the kitchen's emerged a black man wearing a white buttoned shirt with some black pants. He had a smile on his face; I didn't know if he was faking it or if he was indeed happy with his job.

He dropped a white box at the side of the cashier. "Here it is, Randy." He turned toward Dave. "A lot of apologies, sir. We didn't plan on making you wait for so long."

"Er- Yeah. Thanks."

The black man rushed into the kitchens, if anyone deserved a raise, it was him.

"It's going to be 6.99 dollars. Cash, credit, or debit?" said Randy in a monotone voice.

Dave was surprised by the price of the burger, but he decided not to comment on it. "Yeah. Cash."

He took out his wallet and paid all the money to the cashier, following the process of getting the receipt, the signature, and then getting the burger into his hands. Dave thanked the cashier for nothing in particular, but he got a smile out of him. That was good.

Dave chose to take a seat on one of those sofas that had a table in the center. He always chose those because, when he was little, his dad told him that the sofas were the best place to be. His dad spoke from experience.

The table in the center was decorated with the same usual things. A napkin holder, a lot of species, ketchup that had more water than tomato, and a lot of hot sauces. Maybe he could try habanero with his Super Burger. He placed the box on the table and opened it. He was expecting it to flash before his eyes, but it did the opposite.

It didn't look anything close to what he had ordered. The bread of the burger looked as if it had been run over by a truck that had dog's shit. The triple meat with extra cheese was nowhere to be seen; it was just meat, and it was cold. This wasn't the Super Burger he had ordered. Dave had the urge to grab it with both of his hands and crush it in front of Randy's face.

He decided to act in a calm way. Dave stood up from his seat and went to the cashier, pushing away the customer that was making an order and tossing his burger to the counter, just in front of Randy.

"What the hell, man?" yelled the angry customer, "I'm ordering here."

I glanced at him, lifting my middle finger towards him. He looked like he wanted to punch me, but he decided better.

"I'm going to McDonald's," he announced, opening the door. "The service in here is trash. You hear me? Trash."

He went to his car and disappeared from everyone's sight. The families that were sitting in the restaurant were speechless. Dave turned to the cashier, who looked indifferent to the situation that had happened. I pushed the burger in the white box towards him.

"What the heck is this? I thought I ordered a Super Burger. Not this shitty burger."

Randy grabbed the white box and lifted it to his face, looking from the super burger size to the burger he had given me. Maybe trying to figure out what the differences were between those two.

"It looks the same to me," he tossed over the burger.

"The same to you? Do you think this is the same? What about the triple meat, Randy? What about it?"

He sighed "Sam! Bring me two meats for an angry customer, please!"

Dave decided not to say anything about him being an angry customer.

Seconds later, Sam, the black guy, arrived with a spatula in his hand, holding two big meats on it. He dropped them on the white box, just above the lone burger.

"Sorry again for the inconveniences, sir. We are very sorry." He returned to the kitchen. 

"So, it's going to be another 2.98 dollars for the two meats. Cash, credit, or debit?" Randy said, fidgeting with a pen.

"2.98 dollars? But it's just two pieces of meat that were supposed to be with the burger."

"Yeah. And those two meat prices are 1.49 dollars each. That adds up to 2.98 dollars. So you gotta pay, dude."

"Dude? I'm not joking here. Those two meats were in with the combo of the Super Burger. And you gotta give them to me right now, or I'm going to get out of here."

"The combo?" He yawned, "Yeah, the combo is 14.99 dollars. Cash, credit, or debit?"

"You must be joking."

There didn't seem to be anything royal about this Royal Burger.

Dave grabbed the burger and the two meats out of the box and splashed them on the cashier's face, like if it were a birthday and he was getting the bite. This wasn't as pleasurable. Randy stumbled back with the burger stuck to his face. One of his comrades watched, frozen in shock. Dave lifted himself to the counter and, from the cash register, grabbed the seven dollars he deserved. The ones from the burger he had paid for.

Dave walked out of the restaurant. He heard a weak voice shriek. "THIEF!"

Oh, no. He was screwed.