Abnormalities of Life

Dear Dave Thomas:

You took a small sandwich stand named after your adopted daughter (the one with the bright red pigtails) and created a meat monopoly most famous for answering the question of "Where's the Beef?"

You won me over with your square-cut burgers and fantastic fries. You were one of the first to offer sides other than fries (though I do find those scrumptious), your crispy chicken is some of the crispiest around. Your $.99 nuggets--when paired with delicious fries--are a snacker's dream, and the Frosty--well, its of its own class (and species); French fries dipped in frosty goo are actually considered a delicacy by some. Did I mention that I love your French fries?

I realize you may be six feet under, or perhaps your ashes are scattered across a cattle farm somewhere, but that's irrelevant. In your hauntings, can you find it in your heart to visit the Philadelphia Center City Wendy's and smack them all around please?

If I'm the only one upset that my fries are slightly undercooked, perhaps I'm too picky. When two unrelated people complain, it is an oddity. When four complain, perhaps you should check something out. When an entire restaurant of fast food faithfuls realizes that potatoes are much better when cooked, you have a problem. So why do your minimum wagers now feel that it is ok to tell everyone who is complaining that there's nothing they can do about it?

Absurdity. You haven't lost me as a customer yet, but too many fry flubs, and I'm gone. I'll just take a frosty instead.

Yours truly,

Not-Fat-Yet-Jay