All right. No Dr Pepper at Sonic. So we took our food and drove across the street to Jack in the Box, just for a Dr Pepper. Unfortunately, we found ourselves in line at the drive-thru behind a car with four kids in it. Not a good sign. I finished eating my fries and burger before we even pulled around to the pick-up window. Then of course the woman ahead of us spent forever getting food distributed to all four kids. When she finally pulled away and we pulled up, the cashier in the window tried to hand us a bag containing two tacos. Noooo no no no nonononononononono. Not TACOS. DR PEPPER. Aaaargh. She gave her stout matronly boss a sort of confused look, for guidance. That guidance came in the form of the boss telling her to give us a Dr Pepper. Yaay, competence! So I finally got my Dr Pepper.
Then we went to the bank to deposit that huuuge insurance check, then to the grocery store, where I decided to stock up on Dr Pepper. Fortunately whatever mysterious universal forces had been conspiring up to that point must have finally had their fill of amusement, as the box of 12 Dr Pepper cans went safely onto the cart without bursting open, crumbling to dust in my hand, vanishing into an unseen higher dimension, or what have you. Whew!