A mouth-breathing ham just fucked up my Wendys order. Thats ok. I am not a person to be fucked with. My two sons are helping me paint their room today. As a reward, we got Wendy’s for lunch at the drive through. I avoid sugar as much as is practical, because I am a proud shitlord. Naturally, I ordered a diet drink with my sandwich. We pulled up to the window and were greeted by a morbidly obese employee. This former female could not close her mouth nor retract her tongue. My shitlads checked the order before we left and found one piece of it missing. I asked for and received it, and then we left. I was foolishly confident that the ham had made its error, and we moved on. When we got back home, I was disappointed to taste a regular coke rather than the diet I had ordered.  “Hold my drink, son. Dad’s going to show you how to handle this sort of thing” I called Wendy’s and asked for the manager. “This is the manager.” “I would like to register a complaint. The individual who did this is the large woman of color at the drive through window who cannot close her mouth. I ordered a Diet Coke and was given a regular coke. I have type 1 diabetes and so this kind of mistake can be fatal for me.” (I am not diabetic, but they’ll never know this) “Oh. I’m sooo sorry. Can I offer you a replacement or a refund next time you are here?” “No thanks. I don’t need the dollar, I just want to make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else.” “I will keep an eye on her. Thank you.” “Thank you.” My beloved shitlads could barely contain their laughter during the call.  Happy New Year, FPH.