Tuesday, March 22, 2005

When Onions Attack

My children are addicted to a neighborhood Wendy’s. Every Sunday, they have to go out and get their fix. They always get the same stuff, too. K9 gets a double cheeseburger, plain (no veggies, no mayo, just the cheese), and I12 gets a double cheeseburger with everything on it, except for the onions (because onions make your breath seriously stink). I don’t get anything for myself. Sorry, but just the smell of this food is enough for me. In case you’re wondering, I tried offering my children homemade hamburgers, but no. It’s Wendy’s they want.

It seems, however, that we have a problem with this particular Wendy’s. I have a long relationship with the place. Once, I even wrote them a letter. You know these form letters they have, that you can fill out and send to their headquarters? I used one of those. I wrote, “you can get more customers if you remove the dirty rag out of the eating area”. I guess they figure they have enough customers already, because the rag is still there, and it stinks!

Anyway, one thing that bothers us is, we’ve been coming in almost every Sunday for over a year, and we always order the same thing. Yet we never get charged the same amount twice. It can be any random number between $10.50 and $11.50. I don’t really mind, I just wonder - how do they come up with these numbers?

Our biggest problem is ordering. I have an accent, so most of the time I’m out of the question. They don’t understand a word I say. Somehow I’m capable of talking to my own customers halfway across the country, and the customers are on the shop floor with the machinery running, and they still understand what I’m saying. But not the Wendy’s personnel. Oh well, I shouldn’t bitch, after all, I’m the one with the speech defect. So we try to meet them halfway. We don’t use the drive-through. We walk right in. I never open my mouth. K9 does all the talking. We come in every week. We always order the same thing. And each time, we get something different. We’ve taken to checking the burgers before leaving, so if there’s something wrong, we can have it corrected right away. I’ve got to give them credit – they always exchange our screwed-up burgers for the right ones.

Yesterday we got A Really Funny Burger. I mean, each time I think of it, I crack up. Too bad I didn’t have a camera. What happened was, I12 asked for no onions, as usual. So what he got was a bun… double patty… cheese… and a pound of onions! The onion burger. It was just… the weirdest thing I ever saw. I open it, and there’s this truckload of onions staring back at me.

Could be worse, I guess. Could be a rat.

The Goldie has spoken at 10:50 AM

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