“Mom, Can I stay over at Mark’s house tonight?”
“I need a raise.”
“Can we make a sex tape?”
Equally, I’ve also answered “no” to many requests over the years:
“Would you like to go with me to Michelle and Victor’s housewarming party?”
"How about a Michelob Ultra?"
"Would you like to go see Nickelback with me tonight?"
A girlfriend, who LOVED to engage in a series of hypothetical questions, once asked:
“What would you do if I became pregnant???”
It’s times such as these when I like to recite a thoughtful little prayer that my dad taught me at an early age:
“Dear God, please kill me…Amen.”
But, instead, I answered logically and honestly:
“I’d absolutely do the right thing sweetheart. I would likely flee to another country so that there would be more room for the new addition to the household. Besides, you don’t need me getting in the way. Also, I don't know the first thing about changing diapers.”
As a follow up, this woman eventually broke up with me for some reason.
At the risk of sounding like a "glass half empty" person, there are many circumstances where the answer is ALWAYS no.
One recent example being my visit to a fast food drive-thru:
“Would you like fries with that??”
Bucking my personal philosophical system, I answered “yes.“ This, in turn, prompted the following helpful piece of consumer feedback to the Wendy‘s corporation:
To: Wendy's International, Inc.
One Dave Thomas Blvd.
Dublin, OH 43017
From: James Patrick
#2 James Patrick Cul-de-Sac
Apartment Mmmm
New Orleans, LA 70116
Greetings,
I am writing to supply feedback with regards to my recent Wendy’s dining experience. Actually, I wouldn’t necessarily call it an experience as much as an ordeal.
Fortunately, my overall experience had little to do with Wendy’s and its thrifty, but legendarily, tasty menu.
In fact, it had everything to do with the fact that I was trapped inside of a 1997 Honda Civic (heretofore known as “The Honda Sh*t Box”)
It all started because I was drunk and mistakenly assumed that I was the fortunate recipient of a sober ride home.
While streetcars in New Orleans are economical and convenient, they can be quite irritating when seeking out a safe ride home.
Did you know that the New Orleans streetcar system along St. Charles Avenue is the only rolling national monument? Making them even more of a national treasure, they are routinely packed with drooling, puking, drunk tourists late at night.
Due to the fact that my front door stoop is usually occupied by drooling, puking, urinating, drunk locals, I can only tolerate so much over the course of one evening.
Much to my dismay, I woke up to realize that I was in the middle of an 8-million mile road trip in the Honda Sh*t Box with three of the most miserable road trip companions that God has ever created.
At one point during the road trip I seriously considered grabbing the steering wheel and forcing the vehicle from the roadway over a 50-foot Interstate overpass. But, I felt that being killed in a fiery explosion would be an unfitting punctuation to my legacy.
I want to die in a more dignified fashion; such as catching some third world mosquito-borne viral infection which causes me to expel vital internal organs thru my anus while sitting on a dirty truck stop toilet as I bleed profusely from the eyes and nipples.
At any rate, we were getting hungry and did what any group of four amiable, low-maintenance road companions would do…we stopped at four different take out establishments.
With a corporate motto asserting “Quality Is Our Main Ingredient” I opted for Wendy’s. Who wouldn’t??
For some time now, being inundated by a spate of television advertisements during the Judge Greg Mathis program, I’ve found myself especially eager to sample your new “Natural-Cut” sea salt French fries…which are touted as being better than McDonalds.**
**Note: This assertion especially captured my attention because McDonald’s French fries are better than crack cocaine.
I’ve never tried crack cocaine, but I’m told that it is extremely good…until one finds themselves without cash, stealing money from family and friends.
At some point, they eventually begin performing sexual favors in a filthy bathroom in the back of a seedy bar in a poor section of town in order to purchase MORE crack cocaine.
Since I don't find sex in a dirty bathroom appealing, I figure that the most economical alternative for me comes from a 99-cent value menu. Oh, and I don't feel that crack cocaine is right for me. I'm more of a heroin man.**
**I'm kidding, of course, I would never do drugs so as not to anger Nancy Reagan. I WOULD have sex in a bar restroom for free however...as long as it's clean (and not with Nancy Reagan.)
As a side note, I’m thoroughly convinced that my lady friend’s 4-year old son is on crack cocaine, as evidenced by his intolerable behavior…but that’s a long story.
In a nutshell, I found your new “Super Crack Fries” to be limp, soggy, cold and only slightly salty…much as that of a dead hooker who washed up on the seashore in New Jersey.**
**U.S. Geography Fun Fact: New Jersey is known as “The Garden State.”
I’ll give you credit for the sea salt not tasting as robust, as this might be (according to Al Gore) due to Global Warming.®
Because I always search for ways to accentuate the positive, I found your chili to be quite enjoyable and tasty…unlike the burger and chicken nuggets that my friend purchased across the street from the Mc Doo Doo’s value meal menu.
By the way, have you ever heard the urban legend that Chinese restaurants use cats and dogs in their entrees?
I never believed it until I had to have my cat put to sleep four years ago. The veterinarian’s office was located next door to…you guessed it…a CHINESE buffet!! Coincidence? I think not.
On a personal note, I don’t trust any country which creates a round checker board.
Now that I think about it, I would probably have chalked up my experience at this particular Wendy’s establishment to the staff having an “off” night-- therefore reconsidering the potentiality of giving the dead hooker fries another chance.
However, coupled with the fact that the drive thru girl treated me as though I’d murdered her entire family and urinated on their dead bodies because I asked for ketchup and a napkin, I‘m a little shaky about the prospects of a return visit.
According to your website, your company “welcomes and appreciates” customer feedback and suggestions.
My suggestion would be to never, EVER take a road-trip with my friends. Oh, and NEVER outsource the manufacturing of your chili to the Chinese.
Regards,
James Patrick
I've yet to receive a response from Wendy's, but I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I plan to enjoy a nice Kung Pao Chicken at the Noodle House this evening...Rest in peace Cilla!
