I’ve decided that Epee Le Peu is a really stupid internet alias for the person I’m dating, so from here on out, I’ll be referring to him as The Bearded Whorl. The Bearded Whorl sounds more like a WWII fighter pilot and less like a cartoon skunk.
Tonight, The Bearded Whorl and I are going to hear Joe Wenderoth, author of Letters to Wendy’s, a book written as a series of comment cards to the fast food chain. It’s scatological, plotless, metaphysical, and just plain weird—in short, awesome. In honor of America’s Independence, here are excerpts from around the 4th:
July 1, 1996
I had such a wonderful meal, in every sense of the word. I especially liked the ordering of the food. It asserts an altogether proper dominance. And how do you manage to hire such attractive people!! Often I visit Wendy’s just to take a gander at your employees. Thank you! (for being there)
July 2, I996
Today was awful. I don’t know what happened-yesterday was great. I can’t pin-point any single problem with the visit. There was just a kind of pall, an unasked-for strictness undermining the assumption of good will and cleanliness. Sometimes I love to linger in the ring of that strictness, of course, but why today was this love of lingering impossible?
July 3, 1996
Today I bought a small Frosty. This may not seem significant, but the fact is: I’m lactose intolerant. Purchasing a small Frosty, then, is no different than hiring someone to beat me. No different in essence. The only difference, which may or may not be essential, is that, during my torture, I am gazing upon your beautiful employees.
July 4, 1996 (Independence Day)
I wonder what “beauty” really is. I know that the little girl, Wendy, who is pictured on your cups and bags, is beautiful, and so is the green green descent into the valley. Within this descent, I can feel the overpowering order within which I am a temporary eccentricity. This overpowering, anticipated but absent, is beauty. I’d like to spank Wendy’s-white ass and fuck her hard.
I went to the Wendy’s website where I discovered their new slogan (That’s right!) and their latest creation (the Frosty Float). There’s also a clickable text enabling you to invite a friend to eat there, so if you don’t have plans for tomorrow and you’re looking for abdominal firworks, this is easier than an e-vite.
I’m currently writing Letters to Boss, scratched on the backs of resumes and Staples order forms.
July 1, 2007
Today was horrible. I understand that we had to fire a teacher for her racist agenda, but not that you cut up my Corporate Amex. (I had those receipts on my desk.) Your tooth, expelled from the roots, was compassion. I think we should order more Chex. Also, when you say I can’t IM anymore, is that shorthand for imagine?
July 2, 2007
I’m sorry I hired someone with an assault charge. You beat me to the punch, but usually I’m as selective as paper tray 2. I liked when you played Tears for Fears Live in Concert but not so much Edith Piaf. French music in the office makes me feel like a failure, like I’m in an interminable line begging for bread which we both know is my paycheck.
July 3, 2007
You bought a fish and filled the tank with Poland Spring. Now there is nothing but air in the water cooler. I would like to invite you to discuss this matter over by the air cooler. How does 3PM sound? I accidentily sent you an invite to a July 4th party (because you still receive the emails of fired employees) and you looked at me hurt and seemingly allergic. Why are you making us all take an online citizenship test? I only scored a 65.
July 4, 2007 (Independence Day)
Today hasn’t happened yet but I come equipped with an arsenal of celebrity blogs and Homestar Runner emails. I am working in lieu of seeing Transformers. Oh finger-tapping CEO, are you a Decepticon?