by Patti
Last Saturday after ballet class, Cathy, Miche and I took our girls for a post-lesson lunch. En masse we went, a loud cloud of estrogen as we tumbled into a nearby Wendy's. The girls immediately grabbed a table, and we moms set our purses down at an adjoining table and headed to the front to order. When it was finally my turn, I ordered my usual apple and pecan salad with a cup for water, and S's Son of a Baconator, fries and Frosty. "That'll be $9.38," the pimply-faced cashier announced. I swiped my debit card and waited for my receipt. His brows drew together in concern. "Yikes! It says it's declined."
I looked up, shocked. "Wha..?"
Suddenly he doubled over, slapping his thighs. "JUST KIDDING!"
I stood there, stunned. Really? I mean, I seriously have a pretty awesome sense of humor if I do say so myself, but this? Was just so not funny. He straightened up and handed me a cup for the water I had ordered, still snorting with residual laughter at his own delusional "comedy".
I headed to the supersonic, bionic-looking drink machine that now lives in most fast food restaurants. Have you seen these contraptions?
Besides doing yoga next to a lithe, flexible 18-year old girl, there is nothing that makes me feel more 100-years old than using these things. Next thing you know, we will be drinking hologrammed beverages.
As I filled my cup, I looked over to see an employee wiping down the condiments area. She looked at me, shaking her head in disgust, then she gestured to the "comedian", who was standing at the cash register in a stupor - probably trying to come up with his next joke. "He does that to everybody!" she said, her eyes revealing years of having to "put up with this crap".
I went to the table and quickly told Cathy and Miche about my encounter, and as I did, I tried to open the bag of pecans I had gotten with my salad. Only thing was, the pecans were not pecans - they were sliced almonds. Annoyed, I headed back to the counter, and asked the "comedian" for some pecans. "Oh, sorry 'bout that!" He handed me a little bag of pecans, and I asked if I could have another. His coworker was by the "stash", so he grabbed a bag and handed it to me. As I reached out to take it from him, he pulled one of those "psyche!" moves - you know, the one where somebody hands you a five-dollar bill, and as you eagerly reach out for it, the trickster yanks it from your reach? He handed it to me again, and I, fully ignoring the "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me" rule, reached out for it. That's right: HE YANKED IT FROM ME AGAIN. The "comedian" laughed in unison with his coworker, as the coworker basked in the glory of his own genius. Seeing my completely un-amused face, he finally handed me the bag, which I now snatched out of his hand.
I went back to the table and told the girls, and Cathy's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this? ROMPER ROOM WENDY'S?" The three of us sat there, feeling like we'd fallen into some surreal Twilight Zone hole, where everybody is in on the joke but you. As we pondered the weirdness of it all, a man at the table next to us suddenly stood up, clutching his throat. His friends all shifted in their chairs uncomfortably, torn between doing something and continuing to shovel in the fries. The choking man eventually un-choked himself, and he sat down, red and sweaty, while his friends laughed that "holy crap you almost died in public" laugh.
Was this part of the practical joke festival that seemed to be going down this day at Wendy's? Would I find a plastic spider in my salad or a whoopee cushion on my chair? Could I expect for the manager to come greet us with a buzzer-rigged handshake?
I gotta tell you, Wendy's. This thing you say?
Is pretty clever.
I looked up, shocked. "Wha..?"
Suddenly he doubled over, slapping his thighs. "JUST KIDDING!"
I stood there, stunned. Really? I mean, I seriously have a pretty awesome sense of humor if I do say so myself, but this? Was just so not funny. He straightened up and handed me a cup for the water I had ordered, still snorting with residual laughter at his own delusional "comedy".
I headed to the supersonic, bionic-looking drink machine that now lives in most fast food restaurants. Have you seen these contraptions?
 |
| I not only serve you drinks, I can take you to the moon! |
Besides doing yoga next to a lithe, flexible 18-year old girl, there is nothing that makes me feel more 100-years old than using these things. Next thing you know, we will be drinking hologrammed beverages.
 |
| you THINK I'm real.... |
I went to the table and quickly told Cathy and Miche about my encounter, and as I did, I tried to open the bag of pecans I had gotten with my salad. Only thing was, the pecans were not pecans - they were sliced almonds. Annoyed, I headed back to the counter, and asked the "comedian" for some pecans. "Oh, sorry 'bout that!" He handed me a little bag of pecans, and I asked if I could have another. His coworker was by the "stash", so he grabbed a bag and handed it to me. As I reached out to take it from him, he pulled one of those "psyche!" moves - you know, the one where somebody hands you a five-dollar bill, and as you eagerly reach out for it, the trickster yanks it from your reach? He handed it to me again, and I, fully ignoring the "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me" rule, reached out for it. That's right: HE YANKED IT FROM ME AGAIN. The "comedian" laughed in unison with his coworker, as the coworker basked in the glory of his own genius. Seeing my completely un-amused face, he finally handed me the bag, which I now snatched out of his hand.
I went back to the table and told the girls, and Cathy's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this? ROMPER ROOM WENDY'S?" The three of us sat there, feeling like we'd fallen into some surreal Twilight Zone hole, where everybody is in on the joke but you. As we pondered the weirdness of it all, a man at the table next to us suddenly stood up, clutching his throat. His friends all shifted in their chairs uncomfortably, torn between doing something and continuing to shovel in the fries. The choking man eventually un-choked himself, and he sat down, red and sweaty, while his friends laughed that "holy crap you almost died in public" laugh.
Was this part of the practical joke festival that seemed to be going down this day at Wendy's? Would I find a plastic spider in my salad or a whoopee cushion on my chair? Could I expect for the manager to come greet us with a buzzer-rigged handshake?
I gotta tell you, Wendy's. This thing you say?
Is pretty clever.
