We serve “endless crinkle-cut fries”. Guys’ll come in here, say “that mean the fries are infinitely long?” Or if they’re the dumber ones say “How ‘bout you taste my endless crinkle-cut fry, hun?” Smart or dumb it’s always the guys. And like I’ve never heard that before, right? Only there was one time, this couple comes in, young kids, dog of a boy, beautiful girl. Clearing plates I hear her, “when this dinner is done, we’re done,” she says. But the boy ordered the endless crinkle-cuts. He tried. Really tried. Five, six baskets. You feel for a boy like that.