Monday, February 28, 2011

The Eternal Struggle

Recently I went to Wendy's for lunch and I was struck with an incredible dilemma: do I get the Spicy Chicken Combo or the Baconator combo.  Normally this would have been an easy decision, but this time something seemed different.  For some reason I felt that I had not simply been caught in the middle of a culinary conundrum, but rather in the middle of the battle between the forces of Good and Evil.  It wasn't beef versus chicken.  It was Destruction versus Resurection.  There were two opposing forces playing a game of chess for the souls of mankind and I was but a lowly pawn.  But sometimes pawn takes king.

Lately I've been a pretty frequent guest in the Baconator camp and have made some pretty strong allegiances there.  With its tempting double beef patties, melted cheese, excessive bacon and complete lack of vegetables it makes for quite the dark companion.  However, I have had a much longer standing relationship with the Spicy Chicken, its finely spiced white chicken breast boldy proclaiming its righteousness along with its steadfast companions lettuce and tomato holding a soft spot in my heart and colon.  Normally, I'd just say fuck it and go with the Baconator because I love the beef, but that day was different.  I felt like Luke, caught between the Light side and the Dark side of the force.  I felt like this decision would somehow influence the entire course of my personal history, sending me down whatever road I would choose and invariably affecting my destiny.

The decision was not easy.

To me the Baconator represented the Dark side.  It was big and greasy and delicious and contained an entire day's worth of calories for a full grown human male in a single sitting of perfectly square patties and fatty bacon.  It was filling and spiritually satisfying in ways I could never fully describe, but I knew that no good would come of it.  It represented chaos, and unchecked, raw power.  The Spicy Chicken sat there quietly waiting to impart its wisdom.  This was the Light side.  It was quiet, and humble.  I knew that choosing it I would feel lighter for some reason and some way.  Like it would help unburden me.  I could hear both of them calling out to me, beckoning me forward to choose my fate.  And I was paralyzed by indecision.

As the line in front of me grew inevitably shorter I knew I would have to choose.  But it was a dangerous choice.  In battles this Epic, once a choice was made there would be no coming back from it.  Not this time.  This was a Once and For All type decision.  A blood oath, eternally binding.  I could feel my soul being pulled in two directions.  (And it kind of hurt.)  I craved power, but I needed wisdom.  I looked up to the heavens with pleading eyes, hoping to see some kind of sign, some divine prophecy that would lead me towards my true destiny.

Finally it was my turn to order.  I stepped forward onto the battlefield with a confident stride that belied the struggle within me.  I could feel all eyes on my.  A restaurant -nay, a realm- full of potential allies and enemies, all focused on me.  What would he choose?  I locked eyes with the stone-faced cashier and unsheathed my weapon- my debit card, my mighty Exbaliber- and with a voice that shook the heavens I boldly declared:

"I'll have the Spicy Chicken combo, please."

"What would you like to drink?" shot back the cashier, with eyes and words of ice.

"Root beer," I replied without a moment's hesitation.

And with that the decision had been made.  My fate -whatever it may be- was decided on that day.  That Spicy Chicken and I, our destinies had been intertwined since before I had even woken up that morning.  What this choice portends I have no idea.  The future is a twisting highway and my metaphysical headlights are dim, but I do know that wherever I go, whatever I do, from this point forward the light of the Spicy Chicken shall lead my way, be my constant companion, my beacon of hope.  Each day is another step in the path to understanding the significance of my decision in this epic battle so that on some glorious day in the future I will be able to look back to that day in Wendy's and quietly say to myself, "Now I know.  Now  understand how that led to this," take a deep breath and walk out into the fray assured that there is a purpose.

And that's how you choose a fucking sandwich.  


  1. Spicy chicken for the win. Did you know you can add cheese and bacon to that thing? It's like giving the sandwich +5/+5 first strike and trample.