So for those of you who don’t know me well, I love Wendy’s more than life itself. Like, literally, I either go to Wendy’s every day, or at least THINK about going to Wendy’s every day. It’s a problem.
So today, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I was in the drive through.
But like, PEOPLE WERE CRAZY TODAY.
The guy two cars in front of me—literally just one guy in the car—racks up a bill of $25. TWENTY FIVE FUCKING DOLLARS AT FUCKING WENDY’S. SHIT SON. At least he got a side salad instead of fries (but he did get a Frosty instead of a soda. These are things I pay attention to.)
THEN the woman in the car in front of me decided to basically take her entire neighborhood out to dinner. She had literally five separate orders, and she kept changing them and like adding stuff and “deleting” stuff, and it was just a hot mess. I think she also racked a bill high up in the 20’s or even 30s.
So then it comes to me, and I ask the clerk (who knows me by name. A few of them do. The rest of them at least recognize my face. Like I said, it’s a problem) for just a Son of the Baconator and fries and coke and I literally thought she was going to cry of joy my order was so simple.
SO yeah. That’s my story.