The Arby's Fiasco

You know what I can't stand (besides the items on the 25 Things I Hate list)? I can't stand when people tell me that I can't do something, or they question my motives on certain issues. For example:

A few years back, I was in the Burg, reffing a Women's Volleyball league for some extra Christmas scratch. When I finished, I decided to stop and get a bite to eat. Usually, the choice in the Burg boils down to Taco Bell and Arby's, as they are 2 of only a handful of fast foods in town, and both are places that Becky doesn't like, so I try to eat them on the occasions she's isn't around. Anyway, on that faithful night, Arby's got the nod.

The reason I chose Arby's was their advertising board that read: "5 Arby Melts for $5" Me being an Arby melt fan, and incredible cheap, made Arby's an easy choice. The plan was to get the 5 for 5, eat a few and eat the rest the next day for lunch. So I went into Arby's and was greeted by a High School aged blonde chick, ready to take my order.

"I'll take the 5 Arby melts, and a large Coke."
"Ok, 5 Arby Melts to go." the teen said into the microphone thingy.
"No, that's for here." I interjected. That's when things took an ominous turn for the worse. The blonde, flushed with confusion, muttered out "For here?" Yes, I told her, for here. She changed the command into the mic, and asked again "Are you sure, for here?"

DAMN IT!! Yes, I'm sure, I've never been so sure in my life!! 5 Arby Melts and a large Coke, FOR HERE!!

She rolled her eyes a bit and turned towards the food warmer rack. Melts started sliding down. Problem 2 soon arrived in the form of an overweight, porn stash sporting balding guy...the manager. The teen started to put my Melts on a tray, as requested, when fat boy grabbed the tray, and (right in front of me, in a not so quite tone) scolded the teen. "Surely these Melts are to GO, don't put them on a tray!!" She stood, speechless as the manager thrust the Melts into a to go sack.

"Hey," I said, "those are for here."
"5 Melts for here?" he said...here we go again.
"Yes, they are for here...you know, don't worry about the tray, I don't need it!!"

He slid me the bag, on a tray no less, and the Coke (which I had to fill myself, what a gip!). He asked me again if I was sure I wanted them for here, and I assured him, AGAIN, yes. I sat down, boiling mad at the fiasco (mostly because I HATE when managers yell at teenaged employees...unless they are screwing around.) I took the table right in front of the ordering line, and sat facing the crew. It was later in the eve, so no one was in the restaurant except me, the teen, Fatty McGee, and the cook. I starred at Fatty and one by one I took a sandwich, unwrapped it, and ate it, never breaking my stare. They both looked on, in awe of my eating prowless. Haven't they ever seen someone eat 5 melts before? Come on, by the look on their faces, you would think it was the Old 96'er from the Great Outdoors or something.

Truth be told, I was stuffed after 2 and a half, but I kept eating...and eating. 3 down, 4 down, 5 down...ugh, I felt like the kid on Stand By Me after the Pie eating contest...except the crew knew not to come near me chanting "lard ass, lard Ass, LARD ASS!!." And, I didn't send projectile vomit all over the place.

When I finshed my last melt (the last melt I'LL EVER EAT, by the way.) I took the five crumped wrappers on the tray and walked them to the front. I dropped the tray in front of the crew, passed one last stare, refilled the Coke, and left.

Needless to say, after the five melts, that was one of the WORST rides home I ever had!!