Oh Wendy . . . .

Last night was the JV Christmas Party. We went ice skating, then headed back to the church for a bonfire, hot chocolate (in 75 degree weather), and toasting marshmallows. There was a great turnout and I hope everyone had as much fun as I did!

The story you're about to read is true and without embellishment.

On the way to the church, I stopped by Wendy's to get some I-Won't-Die-Food. This is food that isn't so great, but you eat it anyway so you won't die of hunger. All I wanted was a Jr. Cheeseburger Deluxe with no onion.

This Wendy's has the reputation of being the slowest Wendy's on the planet. Noting that the drive-thru was full, I decided to go inside. There were only two other people in the lobby and they had both already ordered.

I'm not kidding when I say I was there for 20 minutes. Twenty!

It's hard to describe why, really. The service seemed to move in slow motion. The guy behind the counter would look at the ticket, place it on the counter, walk away from it, then return to look at it again. When he placed it on the counter a second time, the one next to it blew off and fluttered to the floor. At this point it was slightly amusing, so I watched to see what would happen.

He went and filled two drink orders, then came back to look at the second ticket. Not finding the right one, he proceeded to check all the tickets on the counter, even ones that had already been filled. I decided to give him a break and told him, "It's on the floor. It fell to the floor."

"Oh, thanks."

He then looked around, spied it on the floor, and proceeded to read it. Off. The. Floor. After getting the information he needed, he walked over to fill another drink.

By this time, someone had come to "help" him. He started looking for the missing ticket. The first guy helpfully pointed out that it was on the floor. He, too, began to read it. Off. The. Floor. He then grabbed a bag (though "grab" is a word describing a faster action than what actually happened here) and place burgers inside.

The lady in front of me was finally getting her order. She decides she wants two Frosties to go with it. Thus began a discussion of cup size and the value of each, plus a search for the Oreo cookie topping. I watch as my burger is finally prepared and slides into the pick-up slot.

A crisis occurs. Evidently, the drive-thru needs some salad dressing and it's not in the bin.

Guy number one finishes the Frosty lady and starts to search for the salad dressing. I am now the only customer and my burger is sitting right there. He calls to guy number two, and they both begin to search for salad dressing.

The clock's ticking. Not only do I need to get my sandwich, I need to eat it in 6 minutes.

Guy number one and guy number two both leave to the back of the store to search for salad dressing.

And there I stood. All alone.

There was my burger. All alone.

I've worked fast food for two years. I felt perfectly capable of walking behind the counter to retrieve my burger. My children would be proud of my restraint, though since none of them were present, they would not have been embarrassed in the least.

I finally flagged down one of the drive-thru people and asked for my burger. At that moment, guys one and two returned (without salad dressing) and she gave them a stern talking-to, something along the lines of, "What the heck's goin' on, here? That lady had to ask me for her sandwich!" They both turned their heads and looked at me, then did a comical bumping into each other in their haste to get away from The Scolder.

One of them had the lost ticket stuck to his shoe.