Adventures at Wendy’s

On one of my all-too-frequent visits to Wendy’s – which, unfortunately, is diabolically situated between SUNY Rockland, where I teach playwriting, and home, where I do playwriting – I ordered lunch from the value menu:  a 99¢ cheeseburger, the 99¢ fries, and a 99¢ diet coke.  As the cheery young lady behind the counter took the five-dollar bill I proffered, thinking out loud I said the change should be $1.78.  The young lady’s smile vanished when the cash register display confirmed my calculation to the penny.  The girl gawked at me in amazement; you would have thought I’d just reconciled the theory of relativity with quantum mechanics.  I had done the simplest of math in my head, and she was speechless.  It wasn’t only that I had done something beyond the young lady’s ability; it seems I had done something she didn’t know was possible.  She was dumbfounded; I was horrified. 

On another of my hyper-caloric stops at the ever-beckoning Wendy’s, I ordered my usual value menu burger, fries, and diet coke.  Once again, knowing what my change would be, this time I was the one surprised.  The young lady – a different cheery counter attendant – had given me a dollar or so more in change than I had coming.  I looked up from the money in my hand to the face of the very pleased-with-herself girl behind the counter.  I said:  “I think you’ve given me too much.”  Her smile broaden as she chirped:  “I gave you the senior citizen discount.”  She was so proud of herself that I couldn’t bring myself to smack her face.