City Paper is not for tourists
Figuratively, I have been eating an Angry Whopper for some time now. And tonight, as the clock ticked toward 10 and there was no leaving in sight, and when a coworker said he was going out for food, I thought this might be the time to eat an Angry Whopper for real.
Except Burger King was closing and was out of Whopper patties. Some resourceful type there offered to make our Angry Whoppers with Whopper Jr. patties instead. That’s OK with me; I was in the market for anger, so the corn-fed, antibiotic-filled meat is just a bonus.
9:49: Inside the Angry Whopper you see lots of jalapeños as well as bacon, a few islands of lettuce, and some brown things that look like french fries. These are, in fact, “angry onions.” If you believe this ad, they have been whipped by a farmer. That’s why they’re angry.
9:50: Two bites in and I’m not noticeably angrier.
It’s a little spicy, but I’m beginning to think that the misspelling on the title bar of the Burger King site (“AngryWhooper”) is perhaps more accurate.
9:51: Anger is to be devoured. Revenge is to be savored. The Angry Whopper begins to subtly signal that it will take its time extracting the toll for this meal, with which I am nearly done with two minutes in. My grease-smudged fingers slide all over my phone keyboard as I try to take a shot that illustrates the two Whopper Jr. patties.
9:53: With any luck this will be the last time I’m holding buns tonight.
10:29: As I type this, my stomach is beginning to act a little angrier. I will update this post in the morning.