Tuesday, May 2

Would You Like Lies With That?

Dave Thomas Was A Saint, You Ass!

Last week, I made a late-night run to Wendy's for a baked potato. I wasn't necessarily in the mood for a baked potato; I was just in the mood for anything I could digest and convert into waste matter.

At the time, I hadn't gone grocery shopping in approximately eight months and was beginning to eat things I found in the windowsills. My sheer laziness and apathy for all things foodal prevented me from driving the sixty yards to the market and filling up on whatever my hungry heart desired. Instead, it made more sense to waste money and eat garbage until my body could take no more.

Usually it was Taco Bell that got my business late at night, but tonight I was in the mood for a lawn bag full of french fries, handed to me by someone who spoke english.

I pulled into the barren Wendy's parking lot with the intention of using the drive-thru. As I went around back I was recklessly cut off out of nowhere by a busted-ass minivan. The van had used the side entrance and floored it just to get in front of me. Certainly, this person was exceedingly hungry; far too famished to wait the extra fifteen seconds it would have taken me to grab my items and hit the road. I felt bad for him, in a way. You really shouldn't have to wait so long for nourishment that it becomes a life-or-death thing, especially in a country that sells cheese in a spray can.

A little angry, but more confused than anything, I waited behind him as he slurred loudly into the menu box. Watching the reflection in the van's side mirror, I saw that it was some mustached, 20-year-old turd, eyes glazed over by the gallon of gin he washed down shortly before taking the wheel.

Fantastic. Maybe it was better that he was in front of me.

I shook my head and reached down to grab my wallet when I saw my dashboard start to illuminate. I looked up just in time to see the van backing up towards my car. Alone at the time, my lips parted and I squeaked 'whhaasaa?!' as I threw my wallet down and fumbled with the gearshift to get the hell out of this guy's way. I backed up about a yard when he finally stopped and went forward, ending up right where he started, just in front of the speaker.

I kept my distance. This man was so hungry he was clearly capable of anything.

I was just getting my bearings together when I saw the driver waving something out of his window. What could it be? A gun? A knife? A more focused glance revealed that it was a $20 bill, which he was thrusting towards the speaker.

Read that again; let it wash all over you. He was presenting his money to the magic voice in the box. I jest you not.

After about ten seconds of this, he must have realized that the menu display wasn't going to take his money in exchange for food, so he pulled up to the window. By the time I made my order and got up behind him, an actual human being had finally confiscated this fool's cash and hopefully his license.

I guess what the guy wanted was going to take a while, so the cashier told him to pull out front, and they would bring it out to him when it was ready. If he was as drunk as I thought he was, chances are he ordered the entire left quadrant of the menu, only to eat one fry and puke in the bag once he received his meal.

So, the cashier tells him to pull out front, the guy nods, rolls up his window and calmly drives away. Right out into the street and down the highway. Keep in mind that he already paid.

I'll bet that sometime later in the evening, that guy's going to say to his friends, "I'm hungry, we should go to Wendy's!"


Another week, another 5 posts. Sound off in the comments section; see you tomorrow.

Comments:
No Food? I read you had a Trader Joe's opening soon. Those places are great.
Keep in mind I don't usually keep up with what is happening in other cities halfway across the country, but a while back you mentioned how much you like Madison. I felt bad that I didn't know anything at all about Madison other than that Eric and Donna were going to live together there on That 70's Show So I tried to discover a little about the Madison mystique and came across an article about your new Trader Joes. As I said earlier, those places are great.
 
Madison is a great city. I actually plan on singing its praises more in-depth for an upcoming post. Big ups for taking the time to look into it.

I know you don't live in Boston, but I've spent many hours researching it in the hopes of making an east coast move in the distant future. It seems like a big city that's most comparable to Madison. I also like how much Bostonians love their city, just like Madisonians.

Wisconsin's not a whole lot like That 70's Show; I don't even think we have a Point Place.

I will check out Trader Joes.
 
Boston is a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. When people talk about living in Boston they really mean the suburbs around it. They are all fiercly independant and have their own hang outs. Boston is great for day trips.

I really like Trader Joes. A lot of their Brand name food comes from small businesses that sell only to Trader Joes. You end up with mostly local and good quality for a good price.
 
In Madison, we have a lot of 'indie' type markets as well. Lots of organic and local stuff that makes you feel like a better person for buying it. Why, just last week someone got shot to death by the cops outside of one. Helluva town.

Boston suburbs, 'eh? I'll remember that. That's also a good lesson to anyone visiting Chicago. The city itself will destroy your ability to function and rationalize, but places like Rosemont are beautiful.
 
What is this Trader Joes you speak of?
 
www.traderjoes.com, yo.
 
I was laughing so hard, I almost cried.

I, too, had an incident involving a crazy person this week. Some guy rear-ended me and started telling me to just give him the money and keep it simple.

He told me I had shifted into reverse upon stopping at a stop light.
 
One of my favorite hobbies is making my Mom or Grandma laugh until she pees her pants. I hone into weak bladders with ninja-like precision and pummel them mercilessly.

What happened with the crazy guy? Is your car okay? Did he mug you?
 
I was driving a truck and my trailer hitch busted his fender. Not a scratch on me though.

The man start spewing something about his wife just got out of kemo and that if I just paid him now, he could get home with her.

I called the cops. He was just upset after that.
 
Nothing like a good crazy person experience to add a little zest to an otherwise ordinary day.
 
We had a naked woman lock herself in an abandoned car's trunk the other day, and she refused to respond to any name but 'Code Red.'

Because the Missus works at a courthouse, she gets the dirt on all the crazies in Madison. It's a shame she doesn't blog more; her stories would put mine to shame. Every day, I'll get home and she'll tell me a story that makes my jaw drop.
 
Ah yes, there is indeed something about courthouses and crazy people. I wonder what it is.
 

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