I have a weakness for greasy food. I try to stay away, but it calls out to me.
At about ten last night, the craving hit me. It occurred to me that nothing could be better than a Whopper Junior(tm) with a side of onion rings. Actually, it was a tie between that and Wendy’s “hot ‘n’ juicy” bacon mushroom melt, which is known to induce cardiac arrest within five minutes of consumption. The onion rings were the tie-breaker — there’s a little extra MSG on the onion rings at Burger King, I suspect, which makes them irresistable to me.
Now before you cast your disapproving frowns in my direction, keep in mind that all I’d eaten all day was a small salad at lunch. I’d done my healthy thing, now I had to balance that goodness with pure, hot, dripping evil. And as the King is probably Satan’s sous-chef (with Ronald as head chef, of course), I headed out to the BK drive-through.
After bellowing my order at the intercom, I found myself waiting for a few minutes while they tended to a difficult customer ahead of me in a black Mustang. For some reason, people in black Mustangs are always difficult customers.
Suddenly I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. No, it wasn’t the DTs. A small, brown rat scampered along the curb on my right and disappeared into a shrubbery. Unusually bold, I thought.
Then it scampered back and disappeared from whence it came. Interesting. Then it scampered back again, followed by another one. And another. Presently, there were close to a dozen of varying sizes, darting single file into the shrubbery. Apparently the first was just scouting ahead.
In a drive-through lineup, rat-watching is excellent entertainment.
Finally, the doofus in the Mustang drove away. I exchanged my cash for the bag of grease and, as I pulled away, I had to wait for the queue of rats to scamper across my path and into the back of the Burger King. I guess it’s true that a satisfied customer is a return customer. For minions of evil, rats are kind of cute, and I didn’t want to crush any of them under my tires.
I hoped that the BK staff kept their doors closed at night. I really didn’t want to discover anything unpleasant in my Whopper Junior. Like anything with rodent origins, specifically.
I’m sure the fine people at BK keep their establishment very clean, but all the same, I think I’ll stay away from anything on the menu with bacon bits. Or shredded, unidentifiable meat products.
That kind of excludes most of the menu.
Next time I get the late-night munchies, I’ll drop by the local pub instead. Oh, there are rats there too, but only four of them have been sighted at any one time.