There has been an argument raging in our family for a few days now. A few days ago, my in-laws happened to be in town and decided to come by the house and have lunch with my wife and daughter. It wasn’t anything formal, just a quick fast-food lunch between appointments.
Everyone assembled at our house and it was decided that the lunch would come from Wendy’s. I know what you are thinking, and that is a fast food lunch couldn’t be that difficult. A few of you are thinking that there was an issue with the service at Wendy’s and that is where this story is going. I don’t know what the service was like because I wasn’t there and I am not one of those journalists that just goes and makes stuff up. I leave that to the New York Times.
As most of you know, Wendy’s offers this thing called a Frosty. For the uninitiated, a Frosty is something thicker than a milkshake, but softer than ice cream. It’s served in a cup like a milkshake, but with a spoon like ice cream. It comes in a single flavor that might be described as chocolate, but is not so chocolaty that it could not be enjoyed by someone who does not enjoy chocolate.
Before we get any further, this columnist thinks the Frosty is a Frosty and the flavor is neither chocolate nor vanilla but, well, Frosty. This leads us into our argument. One last note before we proceed, though. My father-in-law could only have a small Frosty because of recent surgery. He did not like not being able to have a big one and complained about the little one after saying that he could just have 12 little ones instead of one big one and the doctor couldn’t say anything. I did not consult his physician regarding the matter because I was pretty sure the doctor would have yelled at him for eating at Wendy’s in the first place.
After complaining that he could not have a dozen or so small Frosties, my father-in-law suddenly blurted out that he didn’t know if the Frosty was a milkshake or it was ice cream. As mentioned above, it comes in a cup with a spoon. The milkshakes at Cookout are ridiculously thick and require vigorous spoon work, but they are clearly called milkshakes on the menu. It doesn’t matter that you could build a brick wall with them, they are undeniably milkshakes. The Frosty is, well, simply called a Frosty. It is neither ice cream nor a milkshake.
Some of you are thinking to yourselves, “Well, what are they then, big shot newspaper columnist who doesn’t make things up because he doesn’t work for the New York Times?”
Work with me here, folks. It. Is. A. Frosty. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less than a vague, frozen and possibly dairy oriented dessert. I assure you, if I find out differently, I’ll run through the streets like Charlton Heston in “Soylent Green” screaming that a Frosty is MADE OUT OF PEEEOOOPPPPLLLLLEEEE!!
(Columnist note: this is what is commonly called a joke. Wendy’s folks, do not sue me or the paper as we all know that Frosties are not made out of people. Maybe.)
Draw your own conclusions. Ask the Wendy’s people. I tried calling the woman who lives across the street whose name is Wendy and she asked what kind of moron I was and told me to do something involving my digestive tract and a hat. I tried to reach out to Dave Thomas, the founder of Wendy’s only to be informed that he has been dead for 20 years and had no comment at this time. I reached out to Dave Thomas the actor who asked what kind of moron I was and told me to do something involving my digestive system and a hat.
This is the first installment of an investigative series I am starting. I am currently working on “Is A Hot Dog A Sandwich?”, “Did Pat Nixon Have The Best Recipe For Watergate Salad?” and “What Is This And How Did It Get In My Hat?”
Award-winning columnist Joe Weaver, a native of Baltimore, is a husband, father, pawnbroker and gun collector. From his home in New Bern, he writes on the lighter side of family life.
