Summer is brutal where I live. I’m not simply talking about the heat, but more the workload. I work in the service industry in a resort town. While the season begins sometime in May it literally builds and builds in intensity until the explosion of Labor Day weekend. So here in the third week of August I’m trying the keep the supplies stocked at the business all while getting back-to-school ready for my kids. The shopping and the haircuts and the meetings at school and the doctor appointments and…oh my gosh I forgot to eat. That’s usually how each meal begins these days. I have a stash of nasty tasting but protein and calorie filled bars in my car along with veggie juices and carrots.

Late this afternoon I had an I need to eat moment. It was a million degrees out and my protein bars were in a melty state. I happened to be in a strip mall parking lot with my nemesis of fast food places, Burger King. But I was so hungry I decided my ban of this establishment ended today. Mostly because the drive through was empty and that meant I could get food faster.

In 2005, that’s right fourteen years ago, I got food poisoning from Burger King. It was a brutal bout of vomiting that led me to the conclusion that I would never again eat at the king of burgers. That flame broiled scent they emit from the building haunted me for years. It’s not that I am holier-than-thou and never eat fast food. I try not to, and it’s relatively easy as I live forty-five minutes from the nearest fast food joint. But occasionally I need food in a rush and I’ll chomp down a quarter pounder.

Back to today. I studied the menu for a moment before telling the lady I’d like a whopper junior with cheese meal. I paid for my order and secured my dinner. I then parked in the lot of Burger King to eat. I used to look sideways at the folks who were eating in their cars in parking lots, but now I am one of them. I get it.

So I unwrap the burger and the flame broiled smell doesn’t bother me. Good. Progress. I decide to remove the bottom half of the bun to sniff the burger patty to see if it has a foul smell. No, we seem to be ready for consumption. But then I look at the patty. Oh Em Gee. Don’t ever look at a fast food burger patty. Ever. This is what I saw.



So that’s not exactly what I saw, but it’s all I could see. This is a close up of a whopper junior burger patty. I ate this. Now I don’t want to receive hate mail from Burger King defenders. I have nothing to compare this to. Wendy’s burger patties could be more disgusting in appearance by a mile. I just don’t know.

Here is a not close up picture of my meal.


Not as offensive. Here you can see the red of the tomato and the green of the lettuce and it looks like food.

I asked my kids what they though the first photo might be. Lucy Girl said a cookie. Hank the Tank said a pizza covered in cat vomit. Then they asked me what it really was and I told them they’d have to read my blog.

Five hours have passed since I ate this. So far so good. Although food poisoning does take many hours to surface. Perhaps I can allow Burger King to re-enter my list of acceptable places to eat on the run.

About kristiane

killing spiders with my laser eyes.
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4 Responses to Dinner

  1. Hi Kristianne….been forever. How have you been?.. I hope well.

    And yes that hamburger, is it? Looks disgusting. Glad you survived. That thing looked like it harbored E through R Coli.

    Remember me?
    Laurie Kendrick

  2. Amy H. says:

    I am on a memory lane trip through old blogs, but I am taking a vacation from quarantine, so I have to comment on this burger. That looks like a tumor patty. I can assure you that if you have to eat at a Wendy’s it will probably look like a burger up close.

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