Last Saturday, I had a hankering for a Frosty.

So, like any person who has the means to get to a Wendy’s, I went to a Wendy’s on Saturday to get a Frosty.

Also and burger and fries, because I like those as well.

But I didn’t go to nay Wendy’s, mind you. Oh no. I went to the one in Rainier Beach.

Rainier Beach. For those of you who don’t know where that is in Seattle, well let’s just say that it is not considered the good part of town.

I knew this when making my decision, but it was the closest one by a mile (well…..6 miles to be exact). So I held my breath, got into my car, and hope for the best.

What I got was the worst.

Upon entering the establishment, things seemed to be rather normal; a line of 4 in front of me, 5 reasonable diners, and only one guy in there who did not have his pants fully pulled up.

But then things started to happen.

The man with half-raised pants came up to the front of counter for more ice. When this happened, I learned of two things; what his ass crack looked like and the fact they had no ice. No ice!! How can you have no ice? On a Saturday at 6pm?

Things did not slow down from here. After about 5 minutes of needlessly waiting to get to order, I walked over to the ketchup area saw that there were no more little ketchup paper cups. No way!! Strike two.

And the clincher…………there were no more napkins.

Yes my friend. A fast food restaurant at a peak hour running out of napkins. Unheard of.

After waiting 10 more minutes to hear my name mumbled (yes, I had to stand right next tot eh counter the entire time because instead of calling out names loudly and audibly, they decided to mumble them to inconvenience everyone), I returned to my seat, fries and burger on tray.

At this point, the fun really began. A series of homeless people wander in, looking as disheveled as Nick Nolte after a bender, and….just…exist in my space. Oh yeah! Don’t forget about ass-crack guy, who decided to stay long after his meal was over and talk to the homeless people. Wandering up and down the restaurant constantly, showing off that hairy old ass crack he was so proud of. And why not? I am sure they all had so much in common.

I quickly ate my burger and left. I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Granted, the burger and fries were of the highest quality, I mean Wendy’s still has its standards of excellence that did not falter on this day. So in some regard, it was not the ‘worst’ dining experience possible. But wow. It was not fun.

Now I understand this was not all of Wendy’s fault; becoming a homeless shelter post 6:15 on a Saturday is certainly not part of their business plan. But to not have napkins, no little ketchup cups, and no ice is completely uncalled for. It was like they were not ready for business.

And the saddest part; I didn’t even get my Frosty.