Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Dancing, drinking Milf Toast

Two stories for you.

1)  Today, we went, as we do almost every day, out to grab lunch through a drive-thru.  Today's choice was Wendy's.  No, I'm not going to bother to couch that and make this less-searchable.  Fuck Wendy's.

Anyway, so here's what happened when we got to the order place:

Dude:  "HI!  We are so glad you came to visit us at Wendy's, would you like to try a baconator today?"

Me:  "No, thank you, but thanks for being so excited to have us here!  I have two orders.  The first one is a kid's meal with a burger only ketchup and mustard, and add bacon, and a Large Diet Coke to drink..."

Dude:  "Oh, I'm sorry, we can't upsize your drink like that..."

Me:  "..."

Well, fuck that stupid rule.

So I changed my whole order, ordered the second one, and drove up to issue my complaint.

They were all, yeah, no, fuck you, you can't have a large diet coke.  Assholes.  I said, "that's ok, I'll call the number..."

Hadn't even picked up our (I'm sure, spit-filled, by this point) food yet, and I called the 800 number.  The girl was very friendly.  Very apologetic.  I told her that, since I was kind of a little person, I needed to get happy meals* but that I wanted a large diet coke, because I don't want a lot of calories, you know?  And she was all, yeah, I get it.  And then she asked if I spell my name with an "h", and I go "YES!  Thanks for ASKING!"

Anyway, so she said she'd call in my complaint and see what they can do, and I'm thinking WORD UP I'm getting coupons for this.

A few minutes ago, my cell phone rang, and it was the Big Mr. Manager from Wendy's.

"OH, HI!" I said.  "Can I call you Mr. Wendy?"

He said no.

And then he explained that I can get a kids meal and also a - get this - 32 oz medium drink, and then they could put them together in a 40 oz cup, and the kids meal drink is a 12 oz, so...  And I'm just thinking, a) I am mathy, and this is shit, because that's 44 oz of diet coke I'd be paying for (NOT TO MENTION THE CUPS) and I would get, at most 40 oz, but probably less, even, because of ice, you know...

and also, b) why wouldn't he let me call him Mr. Wendy?

and also, c) McDonald's makes this place look full on trashy.

And guess what???  Mr. Wendy did not even give me a coupon.  WHAT A JERK.

Here's the second story:

I went out with the girlies this weekend, for a "girl's night" in New Orleans, the kind of thing with dancing until your feet REALLY hurt and then obnoxiously buying flip flops and using your new bff, the lady that works in the bathroom at the Cat's Meow, to get a discount on the flip flops, because really, $16.00 for flip flops is a bit absurd.

It was glorious.

I danced.  Oh, yes, I danced.

Anyway, I had recently encountered this term from the Urban Dictionary, which is to say, "TOAST", which stands for Tits On A STick.  I'm going to tell you right now, I'm thinner than I've been since college, and I look mighty fine in my size six jeans that are a little too big for me, and that night I wore, too, a MEDIUM shirt, which, over this rack, was... snug.  Because I'm a chesty girl.  So there.  I'm a TOAST.  Clearly.

And I'm a milf.

Which...  makes me...

A milftoast.

God DAMN don't you wish you could go to Wendy's with me tomorrow?  I'm totally telling them that Mr. Wendy himself called me.  You don't mess with a milftoast.


*yes, I know, it's only called a "happy meal" at McDonald's, but I was really enjoying being extra obnoxious to that lady today.  It's my only joy.  Leave me alone.

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