The Scene: A Wendy's Restaurant, Route 11, Upstate New York.
Problem 1: Although I rather like the spicy chicken sandwich, in the realm of fast-food crap, the fries are cold, soggy, and tasteless (with or without the special seasoning of my serial comma subsequent to the word soggy).
Problem 2: The chairs. The visitor to this dining experience encounters a mucilaginous clinginess not on the seat itself fortunately, but on the back and handles of the Not-Quite-Stickley sticky furniture. One shudders at the age and origin of such stickiness. My convo (Australian for conversation) about this does not enhance the epicurean feast.
Problem 3: Global what? The place exudes arctic temperatures.
Problem 4: A trip to the men's room offers one Pawlie Kokonuts a manly challenge indeed. The porcelain pretreatment device (PPD), or urinal, is positioned at a level that makes one wonder. It is, what, 1 meter high? Must Everyman stand on a stool to accomplish the deed? (No jokes about the architect and his own personal equipment or the equipment manipulations the Average Guy must manage.) Mr. Kokonuts gives thanks he is not a little person, or dwarf, and completes his task. (No comment on the need to dry one's hands either in one's armpits or on one's pants.) Upon his return to the dining experience, Pawlie Kokonuts regales his audience with a tale about the urinal standing challenge, evincing gales of laughter from his progeny (even showing her Exhibit A, sans Pretreatment Contributor, of course), to frowns and scowls from spouse.
For those counting, this is at least my second post involving a urinal (two different urinals, though).
(The photo is from NASA, presumably depicting the elimination option that astronauts employ.)
