Dear Burger King:
Let me just straight out say that I do not like you. There. I said it. I remember trying one of your burgers as a child and thinking, “WTF?!? What are these little seeds on my bun and why is this thing cooked differently?!?” My opinions of you have ebbed and flowed with my taste buds, but it’s been towards the negative side since infancy.
Why you are the only fast food joint with a free parking lot is beyond me. I’d love to have given my (ok, SOB’s) money to the Panera or even Einstein Bagels, but spending an equal amount of money in quarters to park as it would to buy a sandwich is even more idiotic then your hamburger buns with seeds on them.
So, we drove around till we found how to get in to your deceptive parking lot. In my head, I repeated over and over again: “just getting the mini-cinnamon buns. just getting the mini-cinnamon buns. just getting the mini-cinnamon buns…”
Damn you and your stupidly colored ads. I knew better than to believe your pictures. No way could a $3 sausage-egg-cheese-devil’spoo biscuit look like a sandwich of the gods.
This story does not end happily. In fact, it ends with me devouring that majority of the said sandwich and an equally greasy small order of some tater tots nonsense. Oh, and then spending a good 20 minutes balking at the sodium and saturated fat levels:
My breakfast of the King= 628 cals, 46 carbs (Atkins-forgive me!!!), 43 fat, 131 cholesterol, 1586 sodium
You got me King. I’m officially terrified of you and what you do to my little sense of self-reserve. If I wasn’t already freaked out by your nonsensical ads and mascots.
Now that it’s all over, I am going back to my daily smoothie breakfast, and I will punish myself with a hill run tomorrow morning and a 40 minute ab/lower body breaker segment tonight.