The last time I ate at Arby’s–that I can recall–I was in Utah on summer vacation, hanging out with my cousins. At the time, Arby’s seemed ideal. Lots of meat, low price, and cool curly fries. I think I got something like 4 sandwiches and ate them all, and I enjoyed the fries. Mission successful.
Of course, that was something like fourteen years ago, so apparently the mission wasn’t *that* successful, at least from an Arby’s marketing standpoint. But still, I remembered two basic things: roast beef and curly fries. So when I was out and about on the road yesterday, and my boss and I couldn’t find anywhere else to eat, I decided to give Arby’s another shot.
I had a medium something or other–whatever their standard sandwich is. It arrived looking vaguely pancake-ular, with two squished, soggy pieces of bread bookending a big mound o’ roast beef, topped with globs of what supposedly was melted “cheese” at some point in its life, with a bit of what I hope was barbecue sauce splatted haphazardly through the rest of the thing. I should have looked at it a bit longer, since that sandwich was going to be with me for the next twenty hours of my life or so. I finished eating it, and it felt like my stomach was heavy enough to anchor a small boat.
The curly fries were okay.
In any case, I have no idea how this store is still open. The only reason I would *ever* want to “think Arby’s” was to use the store’s names in creative similes that would inevitably end up as foul and rancid as Arby’s cheese sauce.
Next time, I think I’ll just go hungry.