When I was 15 years-old, I worked at Wendy’s as Wendy. Yup. I wore the complete outfit which consisted of a light blue and white pin-striped dress with bloomers, red and white stripes (a la Pippa Longstocking) stockings and a bright red wig. Oh, and freckles. My job basically was to greet kids, get drink refills for customers and clean the dining room. I became “Wendy” essentially because of three reasons:
#1) I couldn’t remember the sandwich toppings that people wanted on their hamburgers (and this was a problem with my shift manager.)
#2) I wasn’t fast enough with the fries (another problem with my shift manager.)
#3) The cash register was always short because I never gave back the right amount of change (this problem was too much for my shift manager, he just HAD to get HIS manager involved…can you BELIEVE that?)
I could have told them Math wasn’t my best subject.
Sadly, the same three reasons listed above are what caused me to be put in charge of lettuce (seriously, I’m not lying…lettuce) when I was 22 and working again at Wendy’s to help with college. Hmmm. Anyway. So becoming “Wendy” was a way I could still keep my job and not cause too much damage.
So, why am I telling you this story? Because I’ll always have a lil place in my heart for good ole Wendy’s because they gave me my first job (and even though I was awful at it the first time, they still gave me another chance to redeem myself years later) and because of this, I don’t have a problem spending money there (unless it’s over $2.50. Ok, so I’m cheap.) So of course, when Wendy’s advertises a new item on TV, like their new Chili Cheese Fries, I will go and try it out. I figure since my Total Gastrectomy, I have had their chili AND their fries…so why not try them together? When I saw the mixture of cheesy goodness and fried crispness, I knew it was a No-No but I bought it anyway. I went to Wendy’s. Got my warm bag. Excitedly, I drove home. Wanted to savor the flavor…alone. And then, I dropped it.
When I saw the mess on the floor, I instantly knew it was a sign from up above. I wasn’t meant to have it. I know now, I would’ve gotten sick and spent the night curled up in a ball. Not pretty. Sometimes, we just need an answer that is very cut and dry. Thank you, Chili Cheese Fries on the floor. You said it all.