Fast Food Chain Trying To Psyche Me Out

Someone's always trying to get in your head these days. From the waitresses who touch your arm and call you "hon" in an attempt to get bigger tips, to the grocery store baggers suggesting, "Is plastic OK?" when they used to ask, "Paper or plastic?"

In a fit of craving something to eat (often referred to as "hunger"), I just ate a pound of sodium at the Whataburger location around the corner from here. (For those not familiar, it's a Texas-based chain with tentacles throughout the South.) The style is: order at the counter, take a table-top number and someone will bring you your food when it's ready. So the guy brings me my Salt-Burger and Salt-Rings and says, "Thanks a lot. We'll see you tomorrow."

See me tomorrow? Genius. It's not like I'm a regular, but management has decided the seed should be planted. See you tomorrow.

No, you won't, but nice effort; an excellent attempt at creating loyalty. Unfortunately, I can only take one of those SaltSlabs^TM every so often.