I am about to declare jihad on the local Hardee's!

I hope you get a kick out of what I had to go through today for lunch.

I had never really been to Hardee's for lunch, much - I used to go for breakfast by my grandfather when I was a wee tyke - until recently, when one of my co-workers had talked to me about the wonders of the Thickburger. And, as I'm very glad to tell anyone who listens, I'm a fool for a good cheeseburger. But, over the course of the past 2.5 mos, I've been there four times; out of those four times, today marked my worst visit yet, and I don't think I'll be going back.

First visit: I usually get my cheeseburgers plain, but recently I'd decided to add a little bit of something extra to my burger eating experiences. I rolled up in the drive-thru on my lunch break and hollered out, "I want a Thickburger, with cheese, mustard and ketchup." The lady repeats this back, which is usually good customer service, but I have come to recognize it as a cause for concern. I confirm her repetition, verbatim. I give her my money, get my food, and when I get back to work ... I got a damn Thickburger with everything. I chalk this up to just simple human error, but little did I know that this would be known as "Strike 1."

Second visit: Lunchtime drive-thru again, and I want to get my Thickburger experience on again, only proper this time. I roll up and order, "I want a Thickburger, with cheese, mustard and ketchup." She says, "Cheese, mustard and ketchup?" I confirm this; she responds, "That's all you want on it?" Okay, that made me nervous, because "all you want on it" implies that a whole lot that makes this Thickburger a "burger" is being left out, like, I don't know, the meat? (I've had this happen before, by the way, so I'm not just being paranoid.) So I bounce back, "Yeah, just a regular Thickburger, only with cheese, mustard and ketchup." I give the girl my money, get my food, I get back to work ... the damn Thickburger has pickles, tomato, onions, lettuce and mayonaise; what it does NOT have are the cheese, mustard and ketchup. Apparently, I went to Hardee's on Opposite Day, because when I was saying, "WITH cheese, mustard, and ketchup," they were hearing "WITHOUT cheese, mustard and ketchup." Okay, here we have Strike 2.

Third visit: On my third trip to Hardee's, I had a little more time for my break, so I actually went into the restaurant to order. I got me a Thickburger, with cheese, mustard and ketchup, no problem. It was very good, and I thought, "Y'know, maybe I'm just playing this whole thing out all wrong." I resolved at that point that, when I can, I'll go in the restaurant to order; if I have to go through the drive-thru, I'll just go back to ordering cheeseburgers plain & keep it simple. So, to keep the baseball theme going, we'll call this visit, "Ball 1."

Fourth visit, today: I have a shorter time between sessions, and I'm feeling the Thickburger itch, so I roll up into the drive-thru, and while my prior experiences with Hardee's drive-thru have been very dissatisfying, I had a plan. "I'd like a Thickburger, plain, with just the cheese." "You want a plain Thickburger?" "Yeah, just cheese." "Just cheese." "Yeah." I get my price, I go around & give the girl my money, get my food, get back to work ... the "Thickburger," as it were, ended up being not a Thickburger at all; in fact, there was neither a "thick" nor a "burger" in my bag. What I got, nestled between two sesame seed buns, was a flimsy slice of American cheese. "Yeah ... just cheese." A $2.99 cheese sandwich. Hardee's had officially struck out, going down swinging.

I did something I have never done before. I took the bag, the "burger," the receipt and my pleasant demeanor back to Hardee's for a refund. When I explained to the woman at the register the situation, she seemed perplexed as to why in the hell anyone would have interpreted my order to mean "just a slice of cheese." Even the cook, who seemed to be in good spirits, a/k/a high, said something to the effect of, "Man, I was wondering about that order. I said, 'just a piece of cheese,' who just wants one piece of cheese? That didn't make no sense, man."

But, for all the sense that this did not make to anyone, the manager was convinced that what I really wanted was a corrected order; it took a lot of convincing him to refund my money. In fact, as I made my case and he was offering his rebuttal, my closing argument consisted of the phrase, "Which of these best describes your store's motto: 'Customer satisfaction is our #1 priority,' or is it 'Hardee's: Who gives a fk if we get it right?'" Customers eating their food assembled in the dining area apparently thought this was amusing, because I heard the laughter, and the manager, seeing that I wasn't going to leave without my money, gave me the money I paid for my non-lunch. In a move that I will forever question, when I give the bag with my sandwich in it to him, he says, offhandedly, "It's okay, you can keep it, on us." "On us," he says, like he was doing this grand gesture to ensure my satisfaction, allowing me to keep the food I'd complained about while I still walked out with my money. My response was, "Dude, I got a refund, it's not like you just paid me three bucks to throw out your trash." And I left my non-sandwich on the counter, never looking back, and deciding that, as of today, my relationship with the Thickburger in this town is over.