I’ve got beef and it’s 100% ground (I’m referring to Burger King’s “Whopperito”).
Is this where we are as a nation?
I won’t curse about it because I just returned from a three-day retreat on the banks of the Lake of the Ozarks that unburdened my soul through the love of the Lord, but I’m honestly hacked off right now.
After dropping off my youngest daughter Brashley at cheer this afternoon, I drove my fully-loaded Pontiac Aztek (that sucker hauls) through the wrap-around at Burger King for a quick bite, and I was confronted by the single most alarming image I have encountered since my late sister Patty got her eyebrows tattooed on:
The “Whopperito.” Look, I only speak this one language because it’s the best one, so I’m not 110% on this translation, but, in English, I believe this word roughly means “Sayonara, suckers,” as in, we can kiss our whole damn country goodbye at this point. The “Whopperito” not only spells the end of Burger King’s reign at the top of Buck Crimshaw’s Fast Casual Dining Pyramid (take a bow, Carl’s Jr.), it also spells the end of the America that I’ve loved more than my three daughters and a couple of my sons, as well.
Let me tell you why this is absolutely problematic.
Americans have never taken anything from anybody. In fact, by opening our borders to “the tired, the hungry, and the fattest asses” of the world, we might honestly be the most giving and charitable nation on planet Earth. The only people I can place on equal footing as Americans when it comes to selflessness and a natural generosity of spirit is Portuguese women and I’m just gonna be one hundred percent frank because they’re an openhanded type and if you don’t know what I mean by that I’m sorry but I’ve just got to laugh.
Thought exercise: I’m gonna go down the list and I dare you to stop me as soon as I name an item that was influenced by another nation’s people.
American government. Not a chance.
American music. Please.
American cuisine. Don’t even think about it.
We’ve worked for everything we have, and yes, of course I’m including the perfectly polite custom we have of splitting a dinner bill over five credit cards. We came up with that shit, and nobody helped us. If Burger King, one of the culinary giants, is looking for product inspiration from our nosy neighbors to the south, maybe things really have gotten as bad they say. I mean, hey, it wasn’t so long ago in this country that if you wanted to eat Mexican, you drove downtown at 3 AM in a rental car, met a woman named Luz who handed you a gym bag of flautas, and you ate them silently and with haste near the river, dumping all evidence downstream and speeding home for a shower and an enema before slipping noiselessly into bed next to your sleeping third wife. Now, some 18 years later, there’s a taco stand on every corner, the Most Interesting Man in the World drinks Dos Equis, and “Have it your way” has made way for “Have it their way,” and that’s just not The American Way.
(Also, folks, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t “What do you mean, you people?” me because of how I italicized “their” in that last sentence. That emphasis did not reflect the real me — the real Buck — and I would go back and fix it if I could, but I recently spilled like a lot of TaB Cola on the backspace key, so I’m pretty much married to the first thing I write.)
The “Whopperito” has made us a nation of wannabes and takers, and if you’re not damn sick about it, let me pour you some ipecac. Until Burger King removes this item from its incredibly well-priced menu, I demand that the true patriots join me in boycott of this restaurant and take their business elsewhere, specifically to a Rally’s, Jersey Mike’s, Golden Corral, or to Shoney’s if we’re talking breakfast. When it comes to our food, the only thing Americans should be taking is a satisfying dump some forty five minutes after we eat.