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Tuesday, 2005 January 25 - 11:09 pm
This is a meandering and pointless tale.

I called the guy who is supposed to fix the paint on my Mercedes. Just like the Low-Talker from Time Warner Cable, he answers the phone: "Hello?" You'd think people who work in businesses would know to answer the phone like this: "Hello, this is Woody Woodruff at Woody Woodruff's Refinishing, how may I help you?" His name is really Woody Woodruff.

Anyway, I took the car over to his "place", which is really just a little trailer in the parking lot of the Mercedes dealership. But he wasn't there when I got there (fifteen minutes after talking to him on phone, saying I was coming right over). He had gone to lunch. His trailer was left there open, with a little radio playing in it. The Mercedes people called him, and he said he would be back in fifteen minutes.

So I went to lunch. I went to Wendy's, despite the fact that it's fast food, despite the fact that "Super Size Me" just got nominated for an Oscar, despite the fact that portions of the obesity lawsuit against McDonald's just got reinstated. I had a chicken sandwich instead of a burger... but I still had french fries. (Some people eat french fries with ranch dressing. I guess the fries themselves are not fatty enough for them. Today I saw an ad for Pizza Hut's new "dippin' strips". It's a pizza, cut into strips so you can dip them into things... like RANCH DRESSING.)

There were some teenage girls in line in front of me at Wendy's, probably from high school. They were skinny and cute. Between the three of them, they had about seven dollars to buy lunch. They didn't seem extraordinarily poor; they drove in an SUV and wore designer jeans. But they seemed so pathetic counting out their nickels, seeing if they had enough to buy two happy meals and one sandwich. I almost offered to buy them their lunches. But then I thought, what could I possibly gain from doing that? It's not like these teenage girls are going to sleep with me if I buy them each a Whopper. No, I would just be teaching them to take advantage of men using their sexuality, and WE CERTAINLY DON'T NEED MORE OF THAT. So I just let them work it out for themselves. Eventually they will be fat from all that fast food anyway.

I went back to Woody's trailer, and his assistant was there but Woody had gone to the bathroom. When Woody came out, he shook my hand; I hope he washed his. He looked at the car, and said he could probably fix it for about $150. That would mean I would pocket $175 from the insurance check; not a bad deal. But he couldn't do it today, and he's going out of town this weekend. He said to come back next Tuesday, if the weather was good. (He can't paint if it's raining, or if it's too cold... because HE WORKS IN THE PARKING LOT OF THE MERCEDES DEALERSHIP .) He didn't take my name, or my phone number, and he didn't write anything down. I guess Woody keeps it all in his head.

That is the end of the meandering and pointless tale.
Permalink  4 Comment   Bookmark and Share
Posted by Ken in: life


Comment #1 from Crouching Hamster (Guest)
2005 Jan 26 - 12:14 pm : #
Woody is Southern?
Comment #2 from Javi (Guest)
2005 Jan 26 - 4:17 pm : #
noodles - good on you for not giving in to the pressure to kow-tow to over-sexualized teenagers. it's not like we don't have enough of that rammed down our throats as it is...

...but it does beg the question, had these girls been dressed as mennonites and worn thick-coke bottle glasses, would you have bought them the burger?
Comment #3 from Ken (realkato)
2005 Jan 26 - 7:10 pm : #
Woody is a good ol' boy.

As for the girls, the first question is this: if I had seen teenage Mennonite girls having lunch at Wendy's, would my head have IMPLODED?

I suspect that I still would have considered sleeping with them, because I have always been curious about hot Mennonite-on-Mennonite action. Thus I still would not have bought them the burger.
Comment #4 from Speaker (Guest)
2005 May 16 - 2:32 pm : #
i can't eat at wendy's anymore, not since i learned that the secret ingredient in the frostie is...MAYONAISE!

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