Fast Food Follies

I suddenly have so many things that I want to write about! Where shall I start? Hmm… how about a story from my youth?

When I was in high school - maybe 16 or 17 years old - my friend Alison and I spent a lazy afternoon at home. Alison, I believe, came up with a brilliant plan to add some excitement to our lives. I think it was something she had learned from one of her older brothers.

Here is the gist of the plan:

1. Call up a random fast-food restaurant (it must have a drive-thru window) during the lunch rush and ask to speak to the manager.
   
2. Complain about an “order” you placed and explain that you live too far to go back and change it right away. (You want to be sure the shift changes or else they might realize that you were never there.)
   
3. Receive profuse apologies from the manager and a promise that they will replace your order or give you some kind of certificate for free food.
   
4. Hang up the phone, laugh, and get dressed for dinner!

So, Alison and I got out the telephone book, turned to the fast-food restaurants listing, and thought about what we wanted to “order.”

“Wow!,” we thought, “So many choices!”

We started with a Taco Bell. Needless to say, we ended up calling all three Taco Bells in town, a couple of McDonalds, Burger Kings, Wendy’s and Whataburgers, a Long John Silver and maybe a few Dairy Queens thrown in for good measure.

The conversation usually went something like this:

“Hello, Taco Bell, how may I help you?”

“Yes, may I speak to the manager?”

“Hello, this is the manager. How may I help you?”

“Yes, I just went through the drive-thru about 30 minutes ago. When I got home, I realized that you put onions on my burrito. I specifically asked for NO ONIONS!”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am. It’s the lunch rush and there must have been some mix-up. If you come back now, we’ll replace your order.”

(Of course, we can’t go back now! We’ve still got a page of restaurants to call!)

“Look, I live outside of town. I’ve got a houseful of screaming kids and there is no way I can return right now.”

“I tell you what, give me your name and I’ll write up a certificate for a meal of your choice. Next time you come through the drive-thru, just let us know your name and we’ll sort you out.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. My name is Ramona.”

(I used “Ramona” off the top of my head, but I got it from the popular children’s book character “Ramona Quimby.” She was a bit mischievous and I think the name suited the situation!)

“All right. Have a nice day!”

That was that! After an hour or so of calling restaurants, Alison and I made the big trek into town in my mom’s minivan. We took turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t be “recognized” and proceeded to gather our loot.

Boy, you should have seen that van! By the time we were through, it was rolling box of dirty, greasy, fast-food stench!

Now, what to do with all the burritos, burgers, fries, shakes, hush puppies and chicken fingers we had collected? Well, we ate as much as we could, but that barely put a dent in it. We decided to share the wealth, and drove to our friend Aimee’s house.

After feeding Aimee, her siblings, and probably several neighbors and stray animals, we headed to Alison’s place.

Of course, being the creative, artistic girls that we were, we took all the garbage - napkins, wrappers, lids, straws and boxes - and made a very unusual fast-food collage.

I never tried that trick again, but you can be sure that if I’m ever hungry and stuck without any money, I’m heading straight for the nearest telephone book!