The Burger Wars Claim Another

When it comes to fast food, my choice is usually Wendy's, if I'm in the mood for processed, square-shaped patties. Chick Fil-A is usually my top choice all around, but they're a little lean on the burgers, so if it's beef I'm craving, then Wendy's is the place for me.

Having two small children, I, of course, frequent McDonald's. The "Happy Toys", as the kids call them, are the reasons for McDonald's being number one on the kids' list, though my daughter is slowly joining my wife and me in the Wendy's camp.

There's another option, of course. We don't eat at Burger King. When I was at Notre Dame, there was a Burger King in the student center. The student center was located conveniently right behind the chemistry building. I think you can see where the rub is here. Convenience--especially when your day is wrapped around being in the lab from at least seven in the morning until at least seven at night--is the name of the game, and, sadly Burger King was convenient. So, I ate there. A lot.
The thing about Burger King, though, is that, while their burgers can be good, they also make me violently ill. All the time. A couple of years ago--again, for convenience sake--we hit the local Burger King and that night I spent doubled over in agony, swearing off the BK once and for all. Now, I love the King mascot. He's just a perfect mixture of creepy and funny...kind of like me, but with a crown on his head and some mad dance moves in the endzone. My problems pretty much revolve solely around the fact that my tender innards can't handle the food.

Even when I was at ND, I would feel as dirty as a meth whore on the nights that I suffered through a Burger King lunch. I was sure that the little old woman who ran the cash register--Thelma--was shitting under the cheese on my Whopper when no one was looking. Or even while people looked on, because she was an old woman, and old people can get away with that shit. Sure, they tilt their head back and stare through the bottom of their lenses, acting all confused and stuff while hastily searching for the 'Double Whopper' button on the cash register, but really they're plotting your demise, one shat upon Whopper at a time. I'm onto you, Thelma, and the other goons in your blue-hair mafia. You might have been a riveter in your day, but now I know you take devious pride and amusement in how many college kids you can sicken with the contents of your colostomy bag.

I bring all this up because Burger King is currently running with this iDog thing with their kids meals. Yesterday, my daughter and her friends got out of school early--on the first Friday of every month, they have a half day--and so they went to Burger King to eat lunch and get their iDog toys. Yippee fucking skippy. And then they played like lunatics in the playland, which was apparently pretty good. Whatever, the judge says I'm not allowed to hang out in those places anymore, so I get my playland updates second-hand.
The problem was that, a little before six this morning, my daughter was up puking. Yeah, it was hours after she had eaten at Burger King, and she had had dinner, as well. But, she claimed that no one else at school was sick, and a bunch of what she brought up was mucus, but still, there can't be a mere coincidence between her eating at Burger King for the first time and puking within the same 24 hour period, right? My point, exactly.

I wonder if Thelma shit under the cheese on her burger, too.