so after writing “…too afraid” the other day, i’ve decided to branch out in my actions. anytime i suggest to myself not to do something because i’ll look stupid, sound stupid, or just be stupid i’m going to rethink the situation. even if it would only be a little loss i’ll reconsider.
i’m sitting in my car passing time (and not kidney stones) as i wait for my next class to start. i found a little roadside spot by a park. thank heavens i’m in the shade. i can only handle one bodily freakout at the time and heatstroke is not the one on the list right now. nor is dehydration. the one on the list is stomach knots after eating wendy’s fries and a frosty. oof.
i noticed this is the ‘rough’ part of the du campus: a pair of charcoal and ash nike tennis shoes hang from the telephone line above; the playground is only 2 short stories tall and not one mother watching her kid is wearing diamond studs; a hole-in-the-wall chinese restaurant looms nearby, a sure sign of the ghetto. my eyes dart back and forth assuring my safety from the gangs of du.
back to my point. i took my advice about not missing out on opportunities (as a matter of fact, one of these days i am going to run into a face painting booth and get my face painted camouflage). and back to the cause of the stomach ache. wendy’s. i sat here in the car and stuffed every fry into my mouth and chased them with the creamy goodness of a frosty. by the way, wendy’s now have vanilla frosties. bull crap. frosties are chocolate and that’s all i have to say about that. rename your vanilla frosty because it isn’t one. call it coldy or chilly or snowy but NOT frosty. seriously, that’s the worst marketing blunder of all time.
and back to the point. for years now i’ve had one constant irritation with wendy’s. for people with small mouths and pencil lips like me, their spoons are just too frickin’ big! they’re extra deep and extra long. sure it’s a bonus for us fast food americans that want to heap as much product into our mouths at once before our gag reflexes sound the digestive alarm. but for those of us with wee mouths, it’s a nuisance. my main problem with the spoon is that i’m used to other utensils that allow me to drag my lips across it as i remove it from my mouth, guaranteeing no speck of food remains. clean and shiny. wendy’s spoons, you don’t allow me to do that. if i attempt to drag my lips across your deep spoon belly, i get frosty on the corners of my mouth. and who can spare one drop of wasted frosty? nay. not i.
while i continued to enjoy my frosty and simultaneously loathe the spoon, i caught a glimpse of redemption. wendy’s customer satisfaction hotline was written on the bag. 1-888-624-8140. “talk to us,” it read. years of being peeved at their spoon and i wanted to let them know exactly what i thought. i hesitated. i’d sound stupid for merely calling to let them know about the depth of their spoon and its incompatibility with little mouthed people. i almost passed the opportunity by.
needless to say i did it. i left a 20 second recording on their comments and suggestions hot line. i told them bluntly: their spoon was too deep and too big (i eased the severity of the comment by letting them know i loved wendy’s – although my stomach cramp tells me i flat out lied).
i like this new sense of adventure however simplistic it may be. i suggest you try some variation of it, depending on who you are and what your personal and self-imposed limitations are. if you agree with me about the vanilla frosty thing maybe we could join fast food forces and make a change in this world by suggesting they change the name. it’s vital that we do so.
what they have to say