Fairbanks Sucks
North Pole was only a few miles from my destination for the night, Fairbanks. I was planning on getting my oil changed there and was looking forward to being in a real city again.
Well, I have to tell you: Fairbanks sucks.
First, like most of Alaska, it is godawful expensive. I ended up at a Super 8 that cost a whopping $140 a night. The clueless woman at the front desk promised me that their WiFi was working fine when I checked in, but apparently they didn't actually HAVE a WiFi network there (duh...). The last person to occupy the room they put me in apparently had some freshly cured hides and the room stank of dead animal. Naturally, they had no other rooms to put me in (so they claimed), so I had to endure dead critter stank for the night and it took a couple of days for the smell to leave my belongings. Thankfully, the hotel manager was a reasonable guy and chopped about half the cost of the room off my bill when I checked out.
My other fun experience in Fairbanks occurred when I tried to get some dinner. Since I'd had a late lunch, I wasn't hungry until late in the evening, and the only things open nearby then were a Wendy's and a Denny's. Although I've been trying to avoid fast food on this trip, I figured that Wendy's was better than Denny's (at least they haven't been sued repeatedly for racial discrimination, which is why I avoid Denny's) and walked over to get some dinner. The dining room was closed, but the drive-through was open, so I walked up to the drive-through and waited on line.
A moment later, some snotty little inbred punk-ass kid in a stained Wendy's uniform came over from a car parked near me and said "You can't order without a car - you need to have a car to order from the drive through."
"Why?" I asked.
"You just do!" he whined and stormed over to the drive-through window.
The car in front of me finished ordering and drove up to the window, and I walked into the ordering area. At first, I thought I was going to be OK, since the troglodyte working the drive-through did actually ask what I wanted to order. After I told her what I wanted, she asked me to wait a moment. A few seconds later, her genetically challenged manager came on the microphone and yelled at me "YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CAR! GET OUT OF THE DRIVE-THROUGH!"
"Why do I need to have a car?" I asked. "I just want to get a burger, and I didn't feel like taking my motorcycle." This was true - I had scored a prime parking spot right by the entrance of the (not so) Super 8 and knew if I moved my bike now, I'd have to end up parking overnight in the much less secure rear of the building.
"SIR, YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CAR FOR SECURITY REASONS! LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE!" she barked.
Security reasons? Are they for real? I thought.
"Listen, I just want some dinner. I'm clearly no security risk - can't you just fill my order?" I asked.
"SIR, I AM CALLING THE POLICE. LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY!" she barked.
"Why would you call the police? I'll just walk away long before they show up." Can you imagine the look on the cop's faces when they got that call?
"SIR, LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY!" she screamed.
"What the hell is wrong with you fucking rednecks? All I wanted was a burger!" Shaking my head (and clearly a threat to civilization), I walked off as the entire Wendy's staff watched from the drive-through window. I was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them in their sad, pathetic little fast-food worker lives. I bet they all felt like they'd scored a major victory against terrorism by denying me a burger because I didn't have a car.
Assholes.
The one almost bright spot came the next day, when the guys at the local Suzuki dealership squeezed me in for a $100 oil change. At least they didn't consider me to be a security threat, right? Actually, they were very helpful, but the mechanic who changed my oil said that he thought my clutch was starting to go and that I should have it looked at. Now, I've ridden motorcycles tens of thousands of miles and haven't burned through a clutch yet, and the DL was only two months old with less than 10,000 miles, but I decided that I'd take it in once I got to Anchorage.
After that, I got the hell out of Fairbanks as quickly as possible and never looked back.
Well, I have to tell you: Fairbanks sucks.
First, like most of Alaska, it is godawful expensive. I ended up at a Super 8 that cost a whopping $140 a night. The clueless woman at the front desk promised me that their WiFi was working fine when I checked in, but apparently they didn't actually HAVE a WiFi network there (duh...). The last person to occupy the room they put me in apparently had some freshly cured hides and the room stank of dead animal. Naturally, they had no other rooms to put me in (so they claimed), so I had to endure dead critter stank for the night and it took a couple of days for the smell to leave my belongings. Thankfully, the hotel manager was a reasonable guy and chopped about half the cost of the room off my bill when I checked out.
My other fun experience in Fairbanks occurred when I tried to get some dinner. Since I'd had a late lunch, I wasn't hungry until late in the evening, and the only things open nearby then were a Wendy's and a Denny's. Although I've been trying to avoid fast food on this trip, I figured that Wendy's was better than Denny's (at least they haven't been sued repeatedly for racial discrimination, which is why I avoid Denny's) and walked over to get some dinner. The dining room was closed, but the drive-through was open, so I walked up to the drive-through and waited on line.
A moment later, some snotty little inbred punk-ass kid in a stained Wendy's uniform came over from a car parked near me and said "You can't order without a car - you need to have a car to order from the drive through."
"Why?" I asked.
"You just do!" he whined and stormed over to the drive-through window.
The car in front of me finished ordering and drove up to the window, and I walked into the ordering area. At first, I thought I was going to be OK, since the troglodyte working the drive-through did actually ask what I wanted to order. After I told her what I wanted, she asked me to wait a moment. A few seconds later, her genetically challenged manager came on the microphone and yelled at me "YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CAR! GET OUT OF THE DRIVE-THROUGH!"
"Why do I need to have a car?" I asked. "I just want to get a burger, and I didn't feel like taking my motorcycle." This was true - I had scored a prime parking spot right by the entrance of the (not so) Super 8 and knew if I moved my bike now, I'd have to end up parking overnight in the much less secure rear of the building.
"SIR, YOU HAVE TO HAVE A CAR FOR SECURITY REASONS! LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE!" she barked.
Security reasons? Are they for real? I thought.
"Listen, I just want some dinner. I'm clearly no security risk - can't you just fill my order?" I asked.
"SIR, I AM CALLING THE POLICE. LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY!" she barked.
"Why would you call the police? I'll just walk away long before they show up." Can you imagine the look on the cop's faces when they got that call?
"SIR, LEAVE THE DRIVE-THROUGH IMMEDIATELY!" she screamed.
"What the hell is wrong with you fucking rednecks? All I wanted was a burger!" Shaking my head (and clearly a threat to civilization), I walked off as the entire Wendy's staff watched from the drive-through window. I was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them in their sad, pathetic little fast-food worker lives. I bet they all felt like they'd scored a major victory against terrorism by denying me a burger because I didn't have a car.
Assholes.
The one almost bright spot came the next day, when the guys at the local Suzuki dealership squeezed me in for a $100 oil change. At least they didn't consider me to be a security threat, right? Actually, they were very helpful, but the mechanic who changed my oil said that he thought my clutch was starting to go and that I should have it looked at. Now, I've ridden motorcycles tens of thousands of miles and haven't burned through a clutch yet, and the DL was only two months old with less than 10,000 miles, but I decided that I'd take it in once I got to Anchorage.
After that, I got the hell out of Fairbanks as quickly as possible and never looked back.
posted by Mathew Elsner at 2:25 PM
6 Comments:
ok that was hilarious. i think i actually snorted when i read that
Bonjour AVC-
Good to hear from you! Snort away...
ME
What a whiny fuck you are
Hmm...wonder what makes Anonymous think I'm a whiny fuck...that I didn't dig the rotting animal stink permeating my hotel room? Or that I didn't understand not being able to get a burger at Wendy's without a car in the drive-through? (a story everyone else has told me was pretty funny, not whiny). Or maybe s/he's from Fairbanks and is just showing some local pride (which would be hard to do, since it isn't exactly a city reknowned for its beauty & culture). I stand by my title, however: Fairbanks Sucks. With the exception of the guys at the Suzook dealer (who were all great and very professional), almost everyone else was kind of a dick to me. No matter; I'm kind of a dick myself sometimes. Even a whiny dick when the conditions are right.
Either way, anonymous posters who flame are pussies in my book. You wanna call me names, at least grow a pair and put a relevant name behind your post.
Finally, did it possibly dawn on you that by calling me a whiny fuck, you in turn became one yourself, Anonymous Whiny Fuck?
"I was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them in their sad, pathetic little fast-food worker lives."
heh heh
I worked by Super 8 and Wendy's there in Fairbanks for 18 years. When I read your post I laughed out loud. I couldn't agree more with you.
Some bastard working there at Wendy's spit in the hamburger of an off duty police officer. The kid was charged with adulteration of food, which is a felony. The Wendy's owner/operator filed for bankruptcy. But don't have too much sympathy for the devil (Fairbanks Police), since they are well known to single out and gang-stalk (zersetzung) individuals in intangible extrajudicial ways (ie, www.fightgangstalking.com).
The new Wendy's owner/operator following the bankruptcy had employees hanging out in the parking lot playing games one evening, when I overheard one of them say, "Man, I wont'a Rob me a bank."
I was told that a lot of the Wendy's employees there in Fairbanks are on a work release program from the local jail, so the owner/operator gets a wage subsidy of some sort.
I talked with a young couple passing by packing a lot of luggage one day, and they said they checked out of the Super 8 because their room was infested with bedbugs.
There are a lot of great people in Fairbanks likely higher on the evolutionary scale than myself, but on average it's a narcissist hell hole. Fairbanks is the end of the road. If you're a well proportioned healthy hard working young man with a sound mind and a sound body, the troglodyte women there will more likely envy hate you. Not that you would want anything to do with them in the first place.
It's better to stay down south where the grass is greener and the women are on average prettier and a 100 times friendlier.
Folks, whether you are male or female, always beware of the narcissist toads at the end of the road! Always! Your life may depend on it.
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