10 Minutes From Normal

With Paula Abdul reassuring us she was “Forever Our Girl” as we arrived and the newly reunited New Kids On The Block making sure we knew we had “The Right Stuff” as we left, how could we not love our Wendy’s dining experience? With our livers in need of a well deserved rest and stomachs craving greasy goodness, we were elated to see the Wendy’s logo on the list of restaurants at Exit 160 in Bloomington, IL. (And yes, I shamelessly stole, err borrowed, the great title from Karen Hughes’ book “10 Minutes From Normal” for the title of this post because we were, in fact, 10 minutes past Normal, IL.)

After a night of laughs, sushi and drinking with members of the BC cult in Chicago yesterday, we hit the road this morning heading south to St Louis. Big thanks to Katie for lending us her apartment, and apologies for any additional notes you find from Chris. Apparently at 5am it’s a good idea to rearrange things just enough to notice they’re off but not enough to realize what it is and put 25 tiny notes around the apartment. That Chris is a joker. It’s actually funny if you don’t think it’s incredibly annoying. I hope you fall on the funny side of that. If not, sorry.

About 2 hours into our drive our stomachs growled for the magic that only Dave Thomas could provide. Kevin opted for the Spicy Baconator, a bold choice that I debated myself, but ended up setting on the old standby- #2 with ketchup, mustard, pickles and onions only. Ahh, comfort food. But sadly, even the Wendy’s here try to pull the same silly trick that Wendy’s back home do. When you order a combo, the default size is “small” (which is the same as a medium was 3 years ago- I love that fast food restaurants shift the names of the sizes in the entire lineup of drinks and fries so you think you’re eating less. Medium became small, large became medium, and so on. So hard to figure out why this country has an obesity epidemic.) So anyway, you say “#2 please” and they say “medium or large” as if those are the only two choices. When in fact, you have a small, and they should ask you “would you like to upgrade to a medium or large?” But they don’t, and they try to trick you into the additional 50 cents for more syrupy soda and golden fries. Just always seemed like a sleazy way to do it. I’ve mentioned this to the old Wendy’s we frequented near to Kiss, but shockingly my comments were never acted upon.

I’m happy the report the Spicy Baconator is a winner, but doesn’t quite fill you. So 5 piece nuggets from the 99 cent menu were up next. With a wink from the gentleman behind the counter, Kevin emerged with 6 nuggets for his dollar. But what’s even more magical about this Wendy’s is after you’ve filled your arteries with yummy fat, you can walk over to the free blood pressure reader and see just how close you are to that heart attack. We thought this would actually be a tool better used on the way in. You sit down, wait 30 seconds, and then fall into one of 5 categories:

1. Heart attack imminent, run around the block 5 times right now
2. You’re good for 1-2 more burgers before collapse
3. Check back in 6 months
2. Add more grease to your diet
1. You’ve never eaten here before have you, have you?

Kevin sat quietly (actual instructions) and waited patiently for his reading. It came back saying he had hypertension and should see a doctor. Slightly odd for a 25 year old male who runs marathons when he’s bored, but how can you argue with the free blood pressure reading machine at Wendy’s in the middle of Illinois? Weary of the results, Kevin retook the test and he only had pre-hypertension this time. He blamed it on test anxiety, but the Spicy Baconator couldn’t have helped. We should have stayed and continued retaking the test until the level got down to comatose, but St Louis awaits!