I heard that when Wendy’s double burgers weren’t selling well, they added a triple burger. The triple burger sold badly but sales of the double skyrocketed. All I need to know is that it’s acceptable to order three enormous square beef patties on a bun and then ordering two makes me look like a spokesman for self-restraint. Anyway. This guy Wenderoth is pretty cool, pretty quotable.
From Letters to Wendy’s:
What lucky soul could make a beautiful woman with a Biggie wait? Who has that kind of power? What person would a beautiful woman with a Biggie find attractive? Only one answer made sense to me: another beautiful woman with a Biggie.
This idiotic notion that one should love the other customers. Love here really only means: agree, for the time being, not to attack.
To stroke another customer’s head. Run my fingers through his hair and whisper to him: “you’re going to be all right….” I would be called responsible for doing this if he were bleeding to death on the floor, but I would be called inappropriate if I did it when he was in good health. I would be, like all trustworthy prophets, called a nuisance and promptly arrested.
Today a small child weeping. Perhaps weeping is the wrong word. His mother explained to me that this was not true grief–this was pretend grief. This was grief, she said, designed to get something. And I thought, have I anything but pretend grief? And I asked myself what I meant, in these daily excretions of pretend grief, to acquire? And I couldn’t answer. And I felt true grief.