Monday, August 31, 2009


Hey LA, for a city that's so into "diets", you sure have a whole lot of fine fast food establishments.  

In & Out, Carls Jr, Jack in the Box, Del Taco, Taco Bell, KFC, Wendy's,  McDonalds, Burger King, and even Rally's!   I'm not sure what exactly Rally's is,  but it's right next door to me.

My mom would be ashamed that I can name so many fast food places.  In Westport, CT we only had one McDonalds.  I remember when it was first built.   My white-collar town protested.   They thought it was too "urban" for the suburbs.   If you want fast food in Westport, you have to go to Bridgeport or Norwalk (0ur more "urban" neighbors).  Now we have an Arbys.

Drive-throughs make me claustrophobic.  Especially after 2AM.  I almost had a melt down getting a milkshake the other night. 

I was driving home from the bar.  No Mom, I was not drunk.   Prior to leaving the bar my friend specifically asked me if I wanted to grab a shake at the diner next door.  I declined because at the time I was not craving a shake.  Speaking of shakes do you the difference between Shakes and Malts?  I do.  Shakes taste like shakes and malts taste like... malts.  

Malts are chalker, and usually thicker because they have malt powder in them, the same filling you find in malt balls.  Which kinda sound like "moth balls".  I wonder if anyone has ever made that confusion before.

So back to the shake-tastophy. 

I'm driving home, and suddenly I realize I can't find my iPhone.  Which of course sparks a panic attack, because I am one of those iPhone adicts.  I can't do anything without it by my side.  It's pathetic really.

I'm halfway home at this point.  I pull over and check my car.  Nope, no where to be found.  So I drive all the way back to the bar.  I arrive and park my car, but before I head in, I go through my purse one last time.  And there's my iPhone.  FML. 

On the ride home (attempt # 2), it hits me.  I want a milkshake.  No, I don't just want a milkshake, I NEED a milkshake.  There's no possible way I can drive the rest of the 4.5 miles home, even with Hugo whispering sweet nothings in my ear like "In. Point. Two. Miles. Turn. Left. On. Venice. Boulevard."

I'm craving an oreo shake from Carls Jr.  Which in my opinion is the best.  You get the chucks of oreo cookie which is key, and the whiped cream on top compliments it perfectly.  I don't understand why people even bother with crap-achinos when they can have this for just about the same amount of calories. 

I'm practically drooling, I want one of these shakes so badly.  The closest thing I have to shake at home is a half of a Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich which just won't do.  

At last, I spot the neon star. 

I wished upon that star for Carl's Jr. to make my dreams come true.  I pull up:

"Hi! Can I have an oreo shake please?"

"We're all out"

"But I need one."


"Sorry isn't going to give me shake now is it?"

"Please pull up and exit the drive through"

"Fine!  I'll take my three dollars else where." 

So I left.  Shake-less.   I drive less than a mile feeling like my dreams have been crushed.  But then suddenly I spot another Carl Jrs. star peaking out of a palm tree.  My eyes light up.

I pull in gleaming.   This hot head in a Hummer is in front of me.  He orders enough food to feed a family of 10.  I honk.  I mean, this is an emergency. 

I pull up to the speaker.

"Hi! An Oreo shake please."

"We're all out"

"What?! No you can't be.  I was just at the one next door and they were out too.  Come on lady, that doesn't just happen.  I know it's 2AM, but you don't understand.  I need this milkshake!  What can I do to make this shake happen?"


"We don't have any pre-made, we'd have to make you a fresh one."

I cringe at the thought of milkshakes sitting around all day.  I assumed that at such a fine fast food establishment like Carls Jr., a restaurant chain so posh that both Paris Hilton AND Audrina from the Hills eats here, well at least they do in the commercials, would have the decency to make fresh shakes.  

"How long would it take for you to make me a fresh one."

"Four minutes"

From her tone you'd think she said an eternity.  

"Great, I'll wait four minutes"

And I did.  It timed out perfectly.  As soon as the Hummer hothead got handed his last greasy burger to complete his feast, my order was ready.  

The moral of this story is don't take no for an answer.  Fast food places are never actually out of shakes, and the McFlurry machine isn't actually broken.  They're just to lazy to make it for you. So fight for you fast food rights, and you too will go home happy. 

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