Business and pleasure
lie right to your face
Divide it in sections
and give it away
There are no big secrets
Don't believe what you read
We have great big bodies
We got great big heads
Thrown back from a Tuesday into the shadowing Monday. An evening of downed pint glasses clicking in my brain, trivia questions unanswered, witnessing dirty deeds in cars and cold winds signalling closures of new beginnings. In an affected state of mind, tired from effects. Creaky wheels my only chance at a journey back to sanity. Still one final stop to go, a plastic cherry to cap a long winding day.
Bloor passes by in grey and black blurs as the time goes, the wheels spin. Past neighbourhoods of childhood, forgotten jobs, old girlfriends, all with mornings and late nights like this one. All inside a different place and time. Here I'm just some traveler between moments, somewhere and nowhere like an unending yellow traffic light. Bounce. Damn potholes, scaring you back to life from the daydreams.
The bright vortex of the viaduct surrounds my sides, a colourful gateway to the east world. Getting close now. Another rider passes me, both hands in his pockets. It is cold, I suppose. Minutes elapse as street blocks discarded by distance. Up ahead I see it, the famed place I've never been. A scene of overnight crimes and trouble once upon my time as a local. The lights are on inside, the parking lot is empty save a single car. A sleeper over a steering wheel. I attempt entrance into the bright building--
--the uncaring thud of a locked door. Confusion, difficult to process in affected states of mind. The Drive-Thru open, I'd need twice as many wheels. Another entrance to the side. A hesitant wander over, a yank, and inside the light. It's an airport, it's Tuesday again, a completely different time and place. Everything is bright and busy, families sit at tables, it's my turn in line. The effects have worn off.
Package ordered. A widely accepted suspiciously short period of time unfolds. Package received. A spot outside. The package is opened.
"Damn, there is way, way too much mayo on this thing"
---
I really don't have much to say about the Quarter Pounder. It's... definitely a burger.
First off they goofed up my order, hilarious considering I only go to McD's maybe twice a year and specifically for these reviews. I received the BLT Pounder instead of the regular one I ordered, easily remedied by removing the lettuce and bacon (don't worry I still ate both, wasting perfectly decent bacon is criminal). The tomato on here was so white I couldn't tell if it had seen a ghost or itself was one.
The burger itself... I just don't get the love. It's hard to explain: the sensation is there, the feeling of eating a cheeseburger (which is something)... but it just doesn't taste like anything. Well not true, it tasted like mayo. Seriously, I love overly saucy sandwiches/burgers (like dripping level) and if I think you've gone too far you've probably got a problem. The beef texture gives a sense of something that's been reheated to within a micron of its life... its dry and spongy, quasi-juicy but lacking the usual flavour juicy fresh cooked beef would have. It was already cold too. Even the bun, while nice and firm tastes more of butter than actual bread. It was like eating rubber cleverly disguised as a cheeseburger. I dunno, maybe overseas they call it a "Rubber Royale" with cheese.
This may sound like I totally hate it and I'm trashing McDonald's yet again... well I'm definitely trashing them but I actually didn't hate this. For me to hate a food I have to be reviled by it, where the very experience of eating it is gross and unpleasant. The Country Style breakfast sandwich is an example of this. Still there's no way in hell I'd ever recommend the Quarter Pounder, even with the bacon and lettuce. You have to dig to Hades to find any real flavour. It's a rouse, a disguise, a magic trick of misdirection designed to fool the mouth. If some people like the magic trick though... who am I to judge that enjoyment. I just really, really, really did not like this. Mickey D you're 0 for 2, hit the pine.
Tuesday Tune -- The name of this band is Talking Heads.
Thanks everyone for reading! Hope you enjoyed the double feature and the perhaps unconventional approach taken with the second installment. We'll be back next week with something new and so once again, stay safe, stay healthy and don't spill that mustard.
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