Fast Food Geography

With all the talk about mass consumer globalization occurring in the world these days, you would think that at the very least one would expect to find a predictably regular assortment of fast food chains in whichever principality or township you may reside. Alas, such is not the case.

Take, for instance, the case of Wendy's:



For much of the past four years, Wendy's restaurants have been a staple in my white collar working-man's lunch half-hour. Not because it's the best alternative, by any means, but because it's always been right around the corner from wherever I was working. In East Lansing? Just head to Trowbridge. In Mason? Just a short jaunt down Mason-Montgomery, my good man, you can't miss it. Almost invariably, the Wendy's restaurant will be located across the street from a BP so you can fuel up on your way to lunch. You know what we call that in the biz? Convenience. Would I waste my time sitting through another red light just to head to a McDonald's and get a superior-tasting, properly-shaped burger? Not on your life, bub. I'm a busy man. Got things to do. I don't have all day to spend my time dawdling over one mystery beef patty versus another.

But as luck would have it, I move to St. Louis only to find that Wendy's, the internationally renowned fast-food restuarant, does not exist in this fair Missouri city. It's official. It's dead. Deceased. Gone. Vamonos, muchacos. Packed up it's wagon and headed back east. So what's a boy to do get his pre-processed burger fix? McDonald's and Burger Kings are also suspiciously absent from the little part of the city I've explored so far, as they were in Cincinnati, and I'm not about to go headed off into the hellish backwoods of southern Illinois just to get some highway beef.

Therefore, I present to you some advertised alternatives that have largely been off the radar in some of the other towns I've lived in:



1. Rally's. Have you ever eaten at a Rally's? Neither have I, and I'm not about to get started. Their advertising slogan, which is just about the most god-awful marketing campaign I've ever been exposed to, boils down to this: "Rally's - You Gotta Eat!" Yes, that's true, Rally's, I do "got" to eat, but do I hafta eat Rally's? It's like they might as well be saying, "Rally's - Better Than Starving!" And quite frankly, that's a claim I'm not ready to test. Their commercials are equally confusing - showcasing something about skateboarders, BMX bikers, and shit burgers - followed by the ignominious catchphrase, "You Gotta Eat!" I suppose if you are still living in some '90s fantasy about becoming a pro on the Xtreme sports circuit, Rally's fast-food is about all you can afford on your pithy stoner income, and after all, you gotta eat something to maintain that active lifestyle. Pass.



2. Sonic's. Now here's a slogan I can work with: "Sonic's got 'em, other's don't." Aside from the deliberately poor grammar, which I suppose is an attempt to reach out and identify with their apparently illiterate consumer base, this slogan speaks to a unique advantage at dining at a Sonic's over competing fast-food joints. Sure, their fries are junk, but who needs fries when you can order a side of tator tots to go with your remarkably hearty and delicious bacon cheeseburger? You heard me right: tots. And you can forget about ordering a plain Coke when you have 11 different syrup flavors that you can have mixed in. Don't feel like a Coke? Try a cherry-flavored limeade, or a peach smoothie - allegedly made with real fruit! Sonic's, you're moving up in my good book. The whole eating-in-your-car schtick is a little outdated, and probably bad for the environment, but it'll have to do in a city without other big contenders.



3. Jack in a Box. I can't even wrap my head around how many Jack in the Boxes there are in this town. Everywhere you turn: Jack in the Box. Sorry, Jack, but you're still associated with E. Coli in my mind. I'm working up the courage to try you. Slowly.