Few people would deny paying closer attention to financial matters these days. In fact, most would laugh at the very notion that someone DOESN’T keep a watchful eye on the wallet these days. Therefore it chould come as no surprise that bacon lovers such as ourselves occasionally find ourselves at a loss for funds and having to cut back on our bacon consumption.
Personally we think all the big chain grocery stores have joined forces and conspired to destroy the spirit of the bacon loving population with outrageous pricing for ‘quality bacon’ and low sale prices on bacon which gives off so much grease per pound that you need scuba gear just to find the few, tiny scraps of meat remaining in the pan after cooking.
Butcher shops, however, seem to take pity on us poor, wretched, bacon starved individuals. They have kept the quality of their bacon relatively consistent and not raised their prices nearly as much as big chain supermarkets. So we thank the butcher shops and promise to visit again for fat slabs’o’bacon, the GOOD bacon, as soon as finances allow.
And so, bacon lovers, the other evening a group of us found ourselves sitting around the kitchen table knocking back beers, discussing politics, pondering life, poking fun at religion and, of course, praising bacon.
The TV on the counter had some stupid, yet popular with most of America, sitcom playing and had provided background noise for our small beer-guzzling gathering. No one really paid it much attention until… it happened.
Some clever twit in the Wendy’s marketing department placed an ad for the Baconator, or whatever they call that monstrosity constructed of beef-like meat, processed cheese, sorry excuses for vegetables, and condiments… topped with glorious bacon.
Damn. A lull in conversation, laughing and belching allowed the words ‘piled high with bacon’ to enter our brains. No turning back now. we had nighttime bacon on the brain syndrome… and nothing cures that conditon except, well, do we really have to explain that one?
So we all hopped out of our chairs and began our journey… for bacon. Beer had rendered most of us ‘not legal to drive’ so we convinced our one friend’s roommate to give up IM’ing (instant messaging) her latest love interest on MySpace, Facebook, or whichever, to drive us to Wendy’s. She doesn’t drink. No one’s perfect.
She does, however, love bacon… so we forgive her.
After slamming another beer and gathering up the necessities such as money, cell phones and shoes, we piled into her vehicle like clowns moving backwards at the circus. If you didn’t understand that reference, you need to go to the circus. Seriously.
The trip took only five minutes and no one seemed to mind the cramped, crowded conditions in the car. We arrived safe and sound — and hungry.
Each of us craved the Baconator, or whatever they call it, but the steep price they wanted for it made our wallets cringe. Even our undying love for bacon couldn’t make us pull the trigger on a $5.00 fast food burger.
Each of us ordering 4 or 5 the Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger (w/ extra kethup and pickles), however, DID make sense. Too bad the pictures of the burger on the menu lied like cheap hairpieces on the itchy, flaky scalps of used car salesmen.
Oh well. We got our bacon. We stopped for more beer on the way home. We ate. We drank. We burped. End of story.
