Matt Jones' Random Acts of Verbiage

You know those relationships where you are torn between loving adoration and pure animosity? Sorry, I’m not speaking out personal interactions right now; my love-hate relationship is with Dick’s Drive-In.

Dick’s Drive-In (which, naturally, has its own Wikipedia entry) is a Seattle Icon. It is a small, local fast food chain that started right up the block from where I live. The quaint little neighborhood of Wallingford has spawned something that has grown to five establishments that have apparently been mentioned on the Colbert Report. Is that making it big time? You tell me.

I digress. It has been a while since I had been to Dick’s: distance and my now less-than-iron constitution have kept me at bay. But I cannot stay away. The fast moving lines, efficient servers that can add the cost of a cheeseburger, fries, and a large coke like Raymond Babbitt, and that orange sign called to me. I must say, if you haven’t been to Dick’s, you really must indulge. You might hate yourself later, but you will be patting yourself on the back as you bite into that tasty 1/4 pound deluxe and down that strawberry milkshake. If seeing through your take out bag is something you usually avoid, then Dick’s is not the place for you. Your stomach will thank you. But I won’t. Don’t let it keep you away. You can endure the extra few minutes on the porcelain. Just go for it.

Understanding why Dick’s Drive-In and I have a love-hate relationship?