I stopped by the Wendy’s at Dale and University tonight to pick up some fries, and as my server set them on my tray, she produced an orange book of coupons. “We’re selling these,” she said flatly. “Five Jr. Frostys for a dollar. Do you want one?” Seeing my blank look, she repeated slowly: “Five Jr. Frostys for a dollar.”
Not being a Wendy’s regular, I was unfamiliar with what exactly a “Frosty”—let alone a “Jr. Frosty”—was, but I figured it involved soft-serve, and that was enough for me. I bought a booklet (much to the surprise of the server, who said that most people declined the opportunity), and ten minutes later, I’d finished my dinner and had a Jr. Frosty in my hot little hand.
A Frosty, it turns out, is a milkshake. A Jr. Frosty is, indeed, Jr.
At six ounces, it’s actually more like a shot of Frosty.
Still, twenty cents is pretty reasonable for anything bigger than a gumball—and the coupon-book dollars go to the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption. As charitable-donation premiums go, it’s no Daily Planet tote bag, but it’s a lot better than a crappy cardboard balloon stuck to the window of Rainbow Foods.