Ok, this crap has got to stop.  After spending the last two hours dodging tornados, some of which was spent huddled in a rest stop men’s room, we slid off I-75 in to our destination city of Lima, Ohio.  After what we had just been through I was thinking a few glasses of bourbon and a pack of smokes would hit the spot.  My wife on the other hand wanted roast beef.  Pregnant women, so fickle.

We rolled into the drive-thru behind a large SUV who was in some serious conversation with highly-trained beef slicing professional. After a good five minutes they pulled ahead and it was our turn to order, but only the sounds of silence sprang forth from the impersonal speaker box.

Eventually, one of the employees put down their copy of the New York Times and asked what we would like to order.  “One Junior Roast Beef sandwich please.”  Couldn’t be any issue with an order like that at the only fast food restaurant that specializes in roast beef sandwiches, could there? “I’m sorry sir, you’ll have to order something else, we don’t have any roast beef.”

Holy shit.

I mean, it figures, but how in the hell, does Arby’s run out of roast beef?  This is starting to get ridiculous.

Photo: wootam!