Fast Food Nation

I can’t eat at Arby’s any more for one simple reason: I once had to spend nearly 15 hours in an Arby’s franchise.

I was 17 and on my way home from a trip. The flight was delayed, causing all the passengers to miss our connecting flight. It was nearly 11pm when we landed in Memphis and there were no more flights back to my hometown until late the next day.

Now for most people on the plane, this wasn’t a huge problem, just more of an inconvenience: they were given hotel vouchers and meal coupons...some even rented cars and drove the rest of the way home.

...but I was 17. I wasn’t old enough to rent a car. I wasn’t old enough to get a hotel room- even through the vouchers they were distributing. I simply wasn’t old enough to do...much of anything about it. Several fellow passengers gave me sad looks as they wandered off into the night, knowing I was doomed to stay inside the airport all night.

Making the best of the situation, I squished my backpack under my head as a makeshift pillow and laid across the seats in the terminal. “It’s not a big deal,” I thought to myself. “I’ll sleep here until morning, then I’ll be home.”

About 20 minutes later, a man with a walkie-talkie tentatively walked towards me. “Miss?” he said nervously. “Miss, I’m afraid you can’t stay here.”

*silence*

Again, in a more confident tone: “Miss, the terminals are closing, you cannot sleep here.”

In total shock, I gathered my things and was ushered out to the baggage claim area. “I’m sorry to move you, but we just can’t let anyone stay here,” he whispered to me.

“But where will I go?” I wailed.

I was getting pretty scared- I was alone, broke, and too young to stay anywhere. I didn’t know anyone in the area who could come and get me. And now it looked like I was going to be thrown out on the street.

...And then I heard her. “You can come stay over here, baby.”

To my left, amidst the baggage carousels and buggies, was one lone Arby’s Express. It was very small- there were only 3 tables, each with booth seating all screwed to the wall. It shone like a red and white beacon in the night.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you closing?”

The woman explained to me that the Arby’s Express was open 24 hours a day to feed the overnight staff.

“You’ll be just fine right over here, baby, I’ll watch ya.”

With that, my walkie-talkie escort vanished, and I was in a booth.

“Now put your backpack underneath your head and try to get some sleep,” she said. “If you wake up and need anything, I’m right here.”

This angel of a woman was in her middle fifties. She wore her hair in a big bun on top of her head- it was perfectly centered in her Arby’s visor. She had a kind and gentle presence about her. I know some of you might be thinking- why trust this stranger?- but you just knew she was one of the good ones.

I did as she said and fell asleep for what felt like minutes, only to be awoken by a light shake of my shoulder hours later.

“Hey baby, it’s morning now. I’m heading out. Are you okay?”

I blinked at the fluorescent lighting, slightly disoriented and momentarily unsure where I was.

“Huh? Yeah...yes, yes ma’am...thank you. Thank you so much!”

And with that, she left.

It wasn’t until I turned back and started to gather my things that I noticed the breakfast laid in front of me- hash browns and juice and a biscuit. This marvelous woman had left me breakfast.

This was a defining moment for me. It shifted my conceived notions of kindness. This woman- whose name, I am ashamed to say, I never got...I blame being 17 but am still embarrassed- she not only rescued me from being temporarily homeless, she looked out for me. A total stranger with nothing to gain.

So while the smell of Arby’s still gives me nightmares, the feeling of that employee’s kindness will never leave me.