I am very set in my ways with the food I eat. I like things cooked a certain way. Let’s go back to the first of the month– to a devastating meal prepared for me at work.
small Hy-vee coffee
beef/bean burrito (1/2 size)
bacon cheeseburger (2 slices cheese) – BURNT!
20 oz. Styrofoam coke
2 mini orange muffins
2 can cokes
subway (cold cut combo)
In the bold writing, I had a fellow employee make me a Bacon Cheeseburger. At first, she was upset that I didn’t ask her. That I only allow certain people to make it. That maybe be true to an extent. The said people were on break and I was heading there as well. Sadly, she took it upon herself to push the job on to someone else. I am not a complainer when it comes to food. There are very few times I have built up the courage and the rage to go back, toss the burger in the face and demand them to fix it. I would either do that, or this. This simple job was not an easy task. Oh, no. It was brain surgery. Maybe the sadly excuse of a meal was in my fault. I mean, I didn’t write down how I wanted it cooked. Simple instructions.
- Butter the bun and grill it.
- Cook two pieces of bacon.
- Cook burger. Don’t burn it.
- Add two pieces of cheese.
- Lettuce and tomato.
- Put in basket.
Hm..six steps. Easy right? Alcoholics have twice as many steps and they complete them with no problems. I wait patiently for my meal. I gaze at my watch a few times. Surely they didn’t forget me. Maybe there were busy, maybe they had to slaughter the cow, maybe they were arguing over who will get to cook it for me. Whatever the issue, you people are taking far too long to cook a simple burger. Ten minutes is all it takes. No fifteen, not twenty. No exaggerating. I grew three new hairs on my chin before it came out. So the sorry excuse for a burger comes out to me. Let’s check the steps again. Let’s see how well they did.
- butter the bun and grill it.
- nope. just grilled. no butter.
- cook two pieces of bacon.
- one correct so far. Here’s a cookie.
- cook burger. don’t burn it.
- Oh, they cooked it alright. The NHL called, they want to know if I can spare my hockey puck.
- two pieces of cheese.
- OoO..two right! Kudos.
- lettuce and tomato
- Damn you! Were we out? Look up. There is a stockpile of tomatoes and lettuce in front of you. It’s called a produce department. Check it out sometime.
- put in basket.
- A plate, a basket. They all look the same.
I finish my meal and on my return, I am asked how was it. “Horrible! Did you forget about it? It was burnt.” She defends herself, stating that she didn’t cook it. I was under the impression when I left to sit down, that you were going to cook it. You raised holy hell when I wouldn’t let you, then I do, and then you push the job on to someone else. I don’t think so. If you saw the sad looking burger, you will understand why I choose to cook my own burgers. I know how I like my burgers.
The burger, although it wasn’t to my liking, was the same thing I get. Same cheese, same toppings, same bun. It’s not just at work, it’s everywhere.
Burger King: Whopper with cheese (no onion/no pickle), onion rings.
Popeye’s: Three piece meal (mild/dark meat), mashed potatoes, biscuit
McDonald’s: 20 piece chicken nugget (2 BBQ, 2 Sweet/Sour sauces)
Ming Garden: General Chicken, Steamed Rice (soda in place of eggroll)
Subway: Cold Cut Combo (foot long on white) (lettuce, tomato, salt/pepper, vinegar/oil)
Bob Evans: Farmer’s Choice (over easy eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast-in place of home fries)
There is one exception to the rule. I visit one establishment frequently. Well, I use to. I like to get a Deluxe Philly Steak (green peppers/onions). If a certain employee is there, I get suckered into getting a Creamy Chicken Wrap (lettuce, tomato, no onions)
If you saw the stats for January, you’ll know that I visit those places far too often. I visited Subway on, 01/09/10. I was ready to get my normal meal.
Me: Foot long cold cut, on white.
Her: Were out of white.
Her: Sorry. We have Monterrey Cheddar instead. It’s on white bread.
Me: (cries) I guess.
Ruined. A sandwich I love so much was ruined. It has been my sandwich there forever. I’ve been eating that sandwich longer than Jared’s been a corporate tool. My streak was broken when I asked my sister to pick me up a sandwich. Was it my ever so, amazing Cold Cut Combo? No. It was the wretched, Subway Club. Eff you, sister! You killed a little bit of me inside doing to me. They are not the same! It’s like if I lost something and I asked for another set of eyes. You bring me Helen Keller.
But with all my petty demands, my SSDD style of eating, I switched it up. No lie. I did. It was just yesterday. I went to Burger King. I stared at the menu for a bit. I even do this when I go out to places I already know what I want. I stuck with the Whopper but I went large this time! I went for the double. Maybe God got pissed at me for doing that or maybe just bad luck on my part. I ordered my food and asked,
No lettuce and no onions, please.
She taps on this big sign right next to the register. You don’t have to be a whoe. You could have just told me. The sign states that, “due to a global shortage of tomatoes, we are out. We only accept the highest quality of tomatoes. Sorry for effin’ up your day, Kirk. Maybe next time you should stick to the same crap you always get. Ain’t that a kick in the scrotum? Even when i try to be different, I get screwed royally.
In conclusion, don’t try anything new. You’ll just get roshamboed. Don’t go Bruce Banner on me if I don’t ask you to cook my food. Don’t change my order either. And if I order something, it better be what I ordered. I’m not the only one that gets angry. See for yourself.