When I drive around to the window feel free to ask me again about my gravy preference. In fact please do ask so that I can be assured you understood my seemingly impossible request. Go ahead and look at me like I have two heads, I'm used to it and it no longer bothers me. When you ask if I'd like gravy on the side and I say no thank you take me at my word and don't slip that nasty shit in my bag.
Please double... No triple check my mashed potatoes to make sure that vile dirt colored goo isn't smothering my mashed potatoes because I will check my bag before I drive off and I will hand back the mashed potatoes to you and ask you to once again to make mine without gravy and I won't be as nice this time.
Now ill give you my memaws number and feel free to give her a talking to because I refuse to touch your nasty gravy. It's her doing because when you grow up eating tomato or sausage gravy from a woman who grew up in Texas in the 30s and 40s nothing ever compares.