As we walked in, Timothy was hypnotized by the big sign on the wall that shouted at us of the new sandwich we probably need to try in order to live fulfilled lives. "I want that," he said as if reading his lines.
"I have $2.51. You're limited to two items from the dollar menu to compliment your free frosty."
Inside, the companion sign revealed the dark side of the jalapeno cheddar: $4.69. The sandwich on the sign might have been well worth $4.69, but my momma didn't raise no fool. I know perfectly well that no Wendy's in America is selling the sandwich pictured on the sign.
We specified one chocolate and one vanilla, Timothy chose two winners from the 99-cent menu and we passed the next 2.5 minutes with light conversation about how the interior smelled like a bathroom. When the nice Hispanic (?) woman came back to bag a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and a small set of fries she pointed at a second sandwich sitting in the outbox and seemed to ask what it was for.
Conversation ensued in various languages and it no one had any idea why the sandwich was there. The woman turned back to us as though to take care of the customers before solving the puzzle and Timothy pointed suggestively at the mystery meal. The cashier shrugged and asked the employees again if anyone knew what it was for, or if anyone wanted it, or if she was allowed to give it up. A moment later she shrugged again, placed it in our bag and pointed at the sign behind us.
"It's that one." Timothy and I looked at each other, trying not to laugh. "Tonight's your lucky night," she suggested. We thanked her and laughed all the way home.