Wednesday, 27 May 2009

  • Cleansed in Dante's Inferno

    "Can I, for once, get through here without all of the drama," I thought, incredulously.  "Just ONCE!"  But such is my life as a fast-food connoisseur.  The convenience of immediacy in the religion of fast-food instant gratification comes with the high-price of drive-thru drama.  I feel like that guy on the news who's been struck seven times by lightning, and I think "Seven times?  What did he do wrong in a previous life to deserve that?"  Unfortunately, I'm the guy who can't drive around to the second window without enduring a hellish experience between paying for and receiving my food.  It's like an unpublished chapter of Dante's Inferno.

    The fast-food parts of my life are a Divine Comedy with more drama than the Xanga front page during an election year... or anytime of every year, really.

    And this only happens at Wendy's.  Oh, I know, fast-food eateries are replete with mistakes due to the emphasis on speed over quality.  I get it; teens and their summer jobs, as it were.  But when Taco Bell botches my order, at least I get two extra taco supremes and whatever a "gordita" is.  And thanks, "Amy," for ten packets of HOT sauce.  You're pretty cute, yourself, but there's NO WAY you're old enough to work at Taco Bell.  Get out of there while they're still hiring at Toys 'R Us.  This is why, if we're being honest, I'm a McDonalds man.  I know they have a clown for a mascot (and you how I feel about clowns), but there's something comforting about a menu where "Smiles are free," even though I'm sure they'd secret-sauce my Big Mac if I ever requested one.  Still, for all of the drama I avoid around here, Hector* just couldn't keep his teeth away from my ATM card, could he?

    *The drive-thru attendant's name was, in fact, Hector.  Don't try to play me.  I paid attention, because blog accuracy is serious business.

    I've never seen a person wait for the receipt by HOLDING THE CARD IN HIS MOUTH.  Ever.  PEN CAP, MUCH?  Oh, sure, plenty of times people swipe my card like being "Employee of the Month" requires sliding the card so fast that the magnetic strip tears from the plastic.  Whatever, I've seen it all in twenty-eight years, but this, friends, goes into it's own category of "Whaaaaaat did he just DO?!"  At Wendy's, they mistake your ATM card for a toothpick, or something that people use to satiate their unconscious oral fixations.  Who knew.  What would Freud say?  Seriously, I only took the card back, because there's still a decent amount of money on it.  Had I overdrafted my account just for some processed, heat-lamped goodness, you better believe Hector could have kept it for himself, like "Chew it, and you own it, dude."  Burn it, and get a new one, maybe?

    Apparently, "Now Hiring" means "Teething Grown Men, Welcome."  Dave Thomas would never have allowed this.

    TheBigShowAtUD©



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    Outliers: The Story of Success
    By Malcolm Gladwell
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