So what’s the deal, are there no Hardees left anymore?
Yesterday, as my wife and I were driving back from Rochester, she pointed out that the Hardees in Cannon Falls had closed. I wept vociferously as I began to recall the glorious times that I had experienced there. Many a night I made the 70 minute drive to my parents and would stop at this Hardees to order a monster thickburger, thus delivering a pulverizing attack on my heart and blood vessels. As Bridgette and I drove on toward the Twin Cities, my heart offered a strained, belated thump in remembrance.
Noted for its apathetic service and dismal waiting times, this Hardees had comforted me in sorrow, celebrated with me in joy, and commiserated with me in a successful eco-terrorist attack back in ’02. Though its food was oft inedible, and its supplies of ice seemed marginal, it remained a sentinel of white trash gluttony and societal disregard. That is why this swift, sudden end is so troubling to my spirit. If only we had expressed our occasional satisfaction with Old Man Hardee earlier, this sorrow might have been avoided.
This just sucks. Now we have to go to fricking Arby’s.