GateHouse — First, let me state right off the bat that I am not remotely comfortable poking good-hearted laughery at the vast and powerful Burger King empire, for the reason that it is single-handedly responsible for the Egg N’ Cheese Croissan’wich. This is possibly the most perfect breakfast food chunk ever birthed by human hands, if indeed it was birthed by human hands, which I do not believe for one minute, because its eggy, buttery succulence is of such a thick and wondrous magnitude that I am pretty sure it was bequeathed us by some divine creation, like fire was given Prometheus, or the girl who plays Thirteen was sent to “House.” And stop, you’re all thinking it.
Egg N’ Cheese Croissan’wiches, when coupled with Burger King’s equally splendid French Toast sticks, comprise what is possibly the finest American breakfast you can obtain for under $5 and just a little tasty smidgen of eventual heart problems. One time, drifting down the lonely highways of southern Florida on spring break, my friends and I came upon a rest area selling Croissan’wiches at like 3 in the morning. I am not kidding when I say it was like stumbling out of the cornfield into the Field of Dreams (especially when the ketchup machine told me to “GO THE DISTANCE,” which was weird). I would sell my own flesh to indentured servitude in the Burger King’s castle without so much as a second thought if I thought it would score me free croissan’ery, and I highly recommend you stop reading this column immediately to eat as absolutely many of them as you can before the circulation problems claim you.
Anyway, now that I’m reasonably assured that we all know I like Croissan’wiches, here are a few things about Burger King that I do not like: their Big Fish, which is big enough but would more accurately be termed a Big White-ish Loaf Of Something; the Whopper Jr., which is a pale imitation of its monsterish father; and the way that some franchises are delivering their flame-broiled goodness and gastrically opposed fries with the good solid message that global warming doesn’t really exist.
Well, that may not be fair. Instead, the signs outside a number of Burger Kings in the Southern region of America known as “Tennessee,” the hand-changed ones that usually read something like DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER DOLLAR DAY or (GARISH PROMOTION INVOLVING POPULAR CHILDREN’S MOVIE) or something hilariously misspelled, said, and I’m quoting here, “GLOBAL WARMING IS BALONEY.”
Now this would be alarming news to hear from anyone — the president, the pope, the heads of America’s bologna industry — but coming from Burger King it’s just unsettling, especially when you consider it’s probably the first time that actual meat has come up in that building in like years. Critics have also taken opposition with Burger King’s preferred method of delivering its message, which is standing outside people’s bedroom windows and waiting for them to wake up so they can just be standing there all weird and freaky. (I’m stealing this from a blog commenter, too: “The signs should have said “Global Warming: One WHOPPER of a lie.”)
Now it must be noted that this is the work of a local franchiser, and does not reflect Burger King’s corporate outlook, although one must surmise that the franchise’s own legendary flame-broiling obsession is probably responsible for the meltification of about a third of Greenland. (According to the Guardian, company CEO John Chidsey told the World Economic Forum this year that climate change is “an overriding issue of importance for the global community, business community and people in general.” Which is cool, but then so is heart disease, so, whatevs.)
But I think until Burger King condemns its rogue franchisees in the South in a public manner, I will be on a self-imposed Croissan’wich break, as I am not comfortable filling myself with egg-ish goo if it would mean implicitly supporting something like that. But seriously, guys, when you get that straightened out, call me. Or better yet, have Thirteen do it.