Wendy’s

Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Of course you want the good news, you’re an American. Turns out I’m a pretty big fan of the new Crispy Dill Chicken Sandwiches. I’m a pickle guy myself, I know a good pickle when one hits my taste buds. These guys must use the good stuff, what do they call them, Vlasics? The Jar with the sailor parrot lookin brotha? Whatever it is, it’s Damn good. Now to the bad news. Myself and a coworker decided to venture to this specific Wendy’s establishment to obtain these morsels of dillness and of course a classic Frosty. Upon entering the building it became very apparent that we had made a terrible decision. The amount of anguish coming from the employees from behind the counter would make Dave Thomas turn in his grave and wipe the smile right off his face on the billboards around town. This place was hot, sweaty, and sucked the happy right out from my soul. The only patrons enjoying this place were the 10 – 17 flies buzzing around, with the exception of their fallen comrade lying dead in the spoon section of the utensils. As I approached the counter to place my order I was only greeted with a stare and a chilling question of «Staying or going». If you believe that I said staying you deserve to spend your life in that prison of a wendys. I ordered my food and made my payment of $ 7.45. «Name?» was the only words spoken, I rushed through my mind trying to come up with an Alias but I could only Squeak out «Austin». I backed away slowly. The fear was only broken by a loud scream «SARA, RUN AND GET ME THE LETTUCE». I prayed that the crispy dill did not include lettuce, I was mistaken. The only other break during my painful 12 minute wait was my order taker encouraging a younger Wendy’s employee to quit as fast as she could, and that she was only doing this job to support her unemployed father and lesbian lover. Soon after this debacle I watched as my dills were put in a bag, and eye contact was made letting me know my order was ready. She slid the bag across the counter slowly while turning to walk away, no words spoken except «enjoy», a dream killed 15 minutes ago upon my arrival. As I turned to walk away briskly an elderly woman from the cook line ran to the counter exclaiming she had an extra dill giving it to my order taker. Reaching out and throwing it in my bad telling me to have an extra sandwich. I could only nod in approval and walk out without ever looking back. I am now suffering night terrors and frequent to inconsistent heartburn. I would not recommend this location to either Kim Jong Un or my sweet Nana. Two out of Five stars simply for the pickles.

I came here late at night after dropping a friend off at the airport. My wife was asleep so I indulged in a dollar chicken nuggets and a bacon double. I felt dirty as I ate in the parking lot in my car while the slight drizzle streamed down my windshield. «Is this what my life has come to? Eating secret fast food in my car on a Monday night? I need to make changes.» I went and got a gym membership immediately after this.