It never ceased to amaze Rigabold the pernicketness, between his fellow Tumcuddulan’s trips to Earth and all his research, how humans considered themselves to be the superior species while at the same time easily proving how wrong they were with such thoughts.
While humans didn’t really have the knowledge to know which rung of the Galaxial revolutionary ladder they stood on, the fact that only a portion of them believed in life forms other than their own said a lot. However the fact that only a tiny portion of the believers actually believed that life forms from other planets could be smarter than Earth inhabitants made them the laughing stock of more galaxies than even the smart ones knew existed.
So what was it that had Rigabold again wondering how it could be that so many humans considered themselves to be the superior species? It went down like this.
“Good evening sir. Can I help you?” The brunette in her mid thirties asked from behind the counter.
Rigabold had chosen to stop in Kimba, the small town of just over 600 people that claimed it was ‘half way across Australia’, for what humans called dinner. According to the GPS there was a more than 95% chance of him getting multiple Chiko Rolls cooked for him at a take away shop in the north western block of shops of the KImba CBD. There was also an 80% chance of success at the roadhouse on the highway out of town which Rigabold planned to stop at for a different reason.
“Good evening, I’d like eight…” It was at that point Rigabold realised his words were not being heard because despite the lady behind the counter clearly talking to him the woman standing behind him was speaking louder than he was.
He didn’t hear the first part of what the woman was saying because he was busy talking while she was interrupting but he did hear the last bit and the woman was clearly placing her order over and above Rigabold.
“And I’ll have three bucks worth of chips too thanks Kris.” The interrupting woman finished her order.
“No worries Lee,” Kris the brunette behind the counter said as she ripped the front page off the order pad and took it over to where the cook was doing his thing. When she returned to the counter she again looked at Rigabold and asked politely. “Can I help you sir?”
For a second time when Rigabold started speaking he was interrupted by another customer from behind him putting in his order. Then when it happened a third time Rigabold really did start to wonder if he’d inadvertently driven in to the rudest town on the planet.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been nearly six whole hours since his last feed of Chiko Rolls Rigabold would have walked out the door after the fourth time he was interrupted, especially when the fourth interpreter only seem to be there to buy milk and talk about her kids sports achievements. But he was hungry and he needed some good sustenance.
“Excuse me miss,” Rigabold asked, “I’m led to believe your name is Kris.”
“Yes sir.” Kris replied.
“If it’s not to much trouble I’d like to place an order. I realise that I don’t have a wonderful story to share about any kids and I’m not a local but I have been waiting for a good ten minutes and each one of these annoying people has interrupted me as I’ve gone to place my order.”
“I’m sorry sir, I guess they didn’t see you there.” Kris replied seemingly politely but Rigabold could tell there was little empathy in her voice.
What good is having body like the ‘good’ Hemsworth if it doesn’t get noticed when you need to get someone’s attention? Rigabold thought. Then his added though was that people is such a little hick town of backward people may not even know what a good Hemsworth really was.
“I’m sure they didn’t see me there, after all I was standing in front of them and they had to lean around me to interrupt.”
Kris was about to say something in response to Rigabold’s statement when another patron shoved Rigabold to the left, greeted Kris and proceeded to place his order.
“Hello sir can I help you?” Kris came back to Rigabold for a sixth time seemingly unaware of the previous times she’d asked the same question.
Rigabold looked around him. Firstly at towards the large floor to ceiling fridges that stored all the drinks from milk to colas to juices. He then counted the number of people sitting or standing against the wall waiting for their orders to be cooked. Finally he turned towards the front door and looked to make sure there was no one else about to walk in the door and interrupt his sixth attempt at speaking. With the coast clear he then turned back to Kris, looked her in the eyes and began to speak, his voice was louder than it needed to be for Kris to hear but he decided maybe it would help others hear him.
“Good evening Kris. I’ll have a dozen Chiko Rolls, three spearmint milkshakes and…” He looked up at the take away board above the deep fryers and read another eight things off the menu, things he wasn’t originally planning on ordering but added up to an order more expensive than all the currently waiting customers combined. Once Kris had the order written down, and a smile her face at receiving such a large order Rigabold then added. “However given your attitude and the attitudes of your customers who seem to believe they deserve some sort of preferential treatment over a tourist who has come a long way to partake in your cuisine, I’ll be more than happy for you to take that order and shove it up you arse!”
Rigabold then turned tail and walked out the door of the take away shop without looking back and feeling weirdly smug with himself.