NITTY GRITTY

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Involuntary Motor Skills

As I get older, I am constantly discovering that as I grow in wisdom I tend to lose some of my other abilities. An example is my “involuntary motor functions” which seem to be decreasing at about the same rate as my wisdom increases. Of course, some would argue that my wisdom hasn’t increased — that I’ve just become a smartaleck.

W hen I say involuntary motor functions, I’m referring to the ability to do something without much concentration on what you’re doing. It’s sorta like riding a bicycle or skating — once you learn how — you just continue to do it, right? Well, that’s what I thought anyway.

Several years ago, before I left work for the day, I called Sandra to discuss one of my favorite subjects — food. I asked her if there was anything she wanted me to pick up for supper — she said chicken would be good. That’s when my thought buds kicked in — I figured I could get her some chicken and also get myself some of those “crawfish” I’d been craving that were being advertised at Popeye’s restaurant.

That afternoon, when I left the office, I turned onto Belair Road and drove toward Popeye’s. My “involuntary motor functions” took over — I had made many stops at the old Hardees, which was now Popeyes. All I could think about were those little crawfish — batter fried and served with Cajun fries. My mouth was watering. The sign out front said, “They’re Back — Try Our Crawfish Basket – $3.99.” I usually go through the drive-thru, but since I was so excited, I decided to go in and make sure I got what I wanted.

The young lady asked for my order. I said, “Give me a Chicken Club and a continued from page

Crawfish Basket.” She asked, “What kind of basket did you say?” I told her again, thinking that she must be hard of hearing. She asked again. This time I said it louder, “I want a Crawfish Basket.” She said, “We don’t have that.” I said, “Yes, you do, your sign says so.” She said, “No, we don’t!”

Now, folks, needless to say, I was getting frustrated. Why would Popeye’s hire people who don’t even know what they serve? To keep from arguing with her, I ordered a fish sandwich — thinking that maybe they just served the Crawfish as one of their noon-time specialties.

When I got home, I let Sandra know about my frustration with Popeye’s. “Where do they get those people who work there?” I asked — with anger in my voice. She then said, “Why are you so mad at Popeye’s — the bag has Burger King written on it?”

Then I remembered that there was a new Burger King next to the Popeye’s Restaurant. So much for my “involuntary motor functions” and lack of wisdom, which I’m sure contributed to my smartaleck situation. …

(e-mail: benniebo@aol.

com)