Arby's Is The Devil!

I went out for lunch today. I was craving roast beef; but, since there is no Kelly's, Bill and Bob, or Land And Sea nearby, I went to Arby's. And in so doing, I descended to the Seventh Level of Hell.

I was in line behind a couple--a lovely pair that tipped the scales, together, at a cool five hundred--who ordered six sandwiches (including a couple of Beef and Cheddar thingies), a large order of loaded potato calorie bombs, and two diet beverages. Small, of course. The only sad part was that they got their meal to go, because I wanted to watch--from a distance, of course--the feeding frenzy.

As I looked around, I noticed that, with the exception of myself and one other chap, everyone was obese--either regular or morbid--and wheezing as their joints laboured under the massive loads of blubber.

Now granted, the six sambos totaled about 2400 calories (between two people), and maybe this was the only meal that they were going to eat today (making it a 1500 calorie day); but, judging by the Size 20 stretch pants (on her) and the XXXL sweats (on him), I doubt it. In fact, I am sure that the happy couple were just having a mid-afternoon snack.

So, I have vowed, on this day, that I am done with Arby's--and other fast food--for a while. At least until I get that craving again...in about a fortnight.*


*Let me know that you know the movie that refers to food cravings fortnightly.