Monday, August 10, 2009


Wendy's is improperly named. It should be called Eve's.

That's not to say good ol' Dave Thomas should have named it after another child of his. No, let me explain.

Eve lived in a veritable paradise on earth. All of her food was tasty and glorious, and available in its perfect form. However, after a death of sorts, she was cast out from her beautiful garden, and had to live in the hardscrabble land of desolation, where she had to work for her lousy food.

Wendy's has followed the same trajectory. At first she was a blessed Garden of Eden, where the burgers came perfect from trees in their natural square form, and frostees flowed in cool streams of bliss. Children pranced gleefully in delectable delicious french fry fields. Then Dave Thomas died, and Wendy's was thrown out into the lone and dreary world. The burgers lost their square beauty, and turned into
rhombus and pentagon-shaped piles of burned crumbs. The frostees, though still found in their perfected state, also stalked the land in apostate and strange flavors, like vanilla, and Coffee Toffee. The french fry fields turned to rotten dried reams of rubber.

Visiting Wendy's these days is like walking the streets of Detroit. Once a grand master of American prowess and ambition, now an empty desolate wasteland where people huddle in the corners and cry, weeping for paradise lost.

1 comment:

jeremiah said...

And let us not even mention the fury that arises when you finally find a Wendy's on a road trip and their chocolate frosty machine is BROKEN and all they have is LOUSY VANILLA. Or the terrible state of some frosty machines like the one that produced the frosty I had last Saturday that I had to drink with a STRAW.