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My kingdom for a cheeseburger!

June 26, 2010

Who do I gotta kill to get a decent cheeseburger?!?!

I’ve been craving a cheeseburger for several days. To date, despite not one, not two, but THREE attempts, my hunger has not yet been sated.

Last Sunday night Mrs. theGeek offered to run by Wendy’s and grab some dinner. As thoughts of a delicious Classic Double danced in my head, I played Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga on the Wii. Just as I located the 5th minikit canister on Episode I, level 2, she arrived home laden with fast-food goodness. Imagine my utter chagrin when I opened the bag to discover NOT the Classic Double which I had eagerly anticipated…but a plain old Homestyle Chicken Fillet.

Mrs. theGeek blames our local Wendy’s’s bizarre double drive-thru, wherein two drive-thru ordering lanes converge into one food pick-up lane. I agree. It is a food delivery system rife with complications and potential pitfalls. I am certain there is a similarly good-looking gentleman, with intelligence and dynamism equal to my own out there somewhere wailing impotently into the night “Classic Double?! Damn you Wendy’s! I ordered a Homestyle Chicken Fillet!” (For the sake of brevity, we’ll ignore said gentleman’s obvious character flaw in preferring the Homestyle Chicken Fillet to the Classic Double.)

After thanking the wife for her effort and assuring her that she was not to blame, I ate my substandard Homestyle Chicken Fillet in silence, vowing never again to use the drive-thru at that Wendy’s (or any double drive-thru anywhere, ever.) I further vowed that I would have my cheeseburger soon. Oh, yes…very soon.

The very next day, after running some errands, Mrs. theGeek and I decided to stop by Dairy Queen for burgers and a deliciously decadent Brownie Batter Blizzard. (We’re having a bad week, nutrition-wise.) Rather than going with my first instinct to get my usual Flamethrower, I instead ordered a simple cheeseburger from their value menu thinking it would satisfy my cheeseburger need. Oh, what a fool I was!

This Dairy Queen cheeseburger had clearly been hanging out under the heat lamps all day. The bun was dry, the patty oatmeal-like in its flavorlessness. Furthermore, it was garnished with a single, limp pickle and a squirt of that reddish, watery goop that comes out of an unshaken ketchup bottle. (The ketchup equivalent of musquirt.)

In short, this cheeseburger was wholly unsatisfactory. But I persisted!

Friday at work, having not the wherewithall to prepare a bag lunch for myself, I trotted* on down to the cafeteria in an adjoining building. Said cafeteria makes a pretty good turkey wrap, satisfactory chicken fingers, and a reliably decent cheeseburger. I ordered said cheeseburger “fully dressed” (no nudity for my cheeseburgers; this is America!) and trotted* back to my office with a smile on my face and the certainty that my utmost desire would be met.

But no.

This cheeseburger was overcooked, featuring a revoltingly flaccid leaf of lettuce and (*gag*) red onions, the onion-est of all onions. Even after removing the onions I still could not enjoy my burger for all its flaws. I ate in silence, glaring at an indeterminate point on the far wall. I chewed like Ren chomping on the bar of soap in the Ren & Stimpy episode “Space Madness.”

And so here we are, dear reader. I am thrice denied and very cranky.

* No actual trotting occurred.

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