Speaking of Arby’s, have I ever told you the story of My Brother v. Arby’s? Here it is:
Except that first, I need to tell you this: I cannot begin to imagine making a 12-hour drive with a 4-year-old and a 9-year-old without a backup adult. But when we were little, my dad did that twice every year. (We did, of course, change ages. But you get the point. Long drive, small kids, one parent.) More than anything else, this is what told me Dad loved us, even though we lived so far apart.
Now, when Rockford and I take a long trip, it’s punctuated by lots of short stops. This is not the way my dad operates. His counts it as a badge of honor if he can make the whole trip with only one or two stops. If he could go without a fuel stop, I’m certain he would.
The point is, those 12-hour car rides with dad were twelve full hours in the car. We’d stop for fuel and sometimes go through a drive-through, but for the most part we were in the car.
On one trip, though, Dad asked me where I wanted to eat. I picked Arby’s, because I loved it and we didn’t have one in my hometown. And then, Dad pulled into a parking spot. We were going inside. This was unprecedented. Which made my brother’s response even more reprehensible.
“Nooooooooo,” he wailed from the back seat. “I haaaaaaaaate Aaaaarrrrrby’s.”
This, from a child who had never eaten at Arby’s in all of his 6-or-so years. The wailing and gnashing of teeth went on for about five minutes before Dad said, “Alright. You won’t eat, then.”
And then he got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. I was a little dumbfounded at this turn of events, but I was also very hungry. So I followed him, and my little brother stayed in the car, screaming the entire time.
This, I realize, would most likely be frowned upon today. But keep in mind that this story takes place in the late ’80s, which I understand was at least 100 years ago in Twilight & Hannah Montana years. My dad also had a van in the ’80s that had no seats in the back, so my brother and I would lay down and roll around while we traveled. If the ’80s were such an innocent and carefree time, can you even imagine the ’50s? I can, because in addition to traveling without a seatbelt in the ’80s, I used to watch a lot of “Nick at Nite.” The ’50s were idyllic, and sometimes I wish I lived there.
Anyway, where was I? We went to Arby’s and my brother was a big baby about it and had to stay in the car. And guess what? Now he loves Arby’s. I think it’s his favorite fast food restaurant.
The moral of the story is this: Try new things, because they could be your favorite and you don’t even know it. Also: Little brothers can be wildly annoying, but someday you will love them anyway and you will write embarrassing stories about them on your webblog.
Two of my younger brothers refused to eat anything but McDonalds until they were in their pre-teens. I spent the summers with them, and that was enough to make me pretty much loathe Mickey D’s to this day. What is it with younger brothers and restaurants?
.-= April´s last blog ..UP! =-.
I never understood why you insisted we attend the Arby’s grand opening here in town until I read this. Not to say it wasn’t awesome or anything.
@Carrie Anne: You can’t tell me that wasn’t one of the highlights of your teenage years. I still can’t believe they didn’t honor us in any way at all. A commemorative plaque would’ve been ideal, but I would’ve settled for a free sandwich. Although I guess I settled for buying a sandwich. And also, now we can think “I was their first customer” every time we drive past.
I agree with the little brothers can be annoying part at the end. Actually, this story kind’ve happened about a week ago, except for it was Ponderosa, not Arby’s. Maybe Ponderosa will be Tanner’s favortie restaurant in the future.
Dude, did you really insist on attending an Arby’s grand opening? That is hilarious…I’m sure if Justin had a blog he would tell that story! Joe just walked down the stairs while I was laughing and reading this and wanted to know what was so funny. When I told him about your Arby’s grand opening he said, “Sounds like something you would do.”
This Justin fellow sounds like a reasonable and principled young man. I think we could all learn from him.
It wasn’t so much a “grand opening” as it was that I made Carrie go with me to sit in the parking lot an hour before they opened so we’d be the first customers. I was a really cool kid and a super friend.
If memory serves, there was some milling about in the restaurant until the official opening. And some weird looks from the management. But, you ARE a super cool friend.
Sometimes I wish I lived in the early 1960’s.
.-= A Free Man´s last blog ..He’s the hairy, hairy gent, who ran amok in Kent. =-.
When I was growing up (’70’s) we’d make this trip from Champaign Illinois to Amarillo Texas. I don’t remember how long it took, but Dad wouldn’t stop except for gas. We had a station wagon (that must have had a 50 gallon tank), and my brother and I would roll around in the back, I’d write signs that said “Help I’ve been kidnapped” to hold to the back window, and we’d never ever stop anywhere to eat. Mom would make a gallon of her gawdaweful pimento cheese (to this day I hate the stuff) and we’d eat that the entire trip. Oh I’d have fallen over into heaven if we’d stopped at Arbys.
.-= rootietoot´s last blog ..Peter =-.