TRIVIA FACT: if you say “Whopperito” three times, Johnny Cash’s ghost will appear to perform “Hurt”.
You should know by now that I enjoy punishing myself with fast food monstrosities on a semi-regular basis, so it should come as fairly unsurprising news that I decided to taste-test Burger King’s newest menu item, the “Whopperito”. (In case you are an idiot, yes, that name does imply the combined forces of a Whopper and a burrito.)
When I arrived at Burger King, it was busy AF. A self-appointed doorman greeted me at the gates of hell, likely hoping that, should I return to the inviting trash heap just outside, I’d reward him with some change. I spent my time in the long-ass line digging in my backpack for a quarter to give him, and while I was searching found many hidden treasures including candy wrappers and sand. The line did not move.
After what seemed an eternity, I turned my attention to an eleven-year-old who’d decided to pay for his meal in pennies. The cashier kept losing count and having to start over again. The line continued to not move.
Finally we began to inch forward, and eventually it was my turn to announce that I would be ordering one Whopperito, please. The total came to $3.80, which seemed a reasonable sum when you consider I was purchasing my trip to the afterlife!
I gave the self-appointed doorman (who was now smoking a cigarette) twenty-five cents and got on my way, because certain death waits for no one!
Back home, I unwrapped my fate. It wasn’t as sad-looking as I’d expected, but it didn’t exactly scream champagne wishes and caviar dreams. As I cut it in half, I could have sworn I could hear Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” playing softly in the distance. I ignored this warning and took a bite.
Was it a mindfuck? Yes. There was a burger with ketchup and mustard pickles inside of a flour tortilla, INSIDE OF MY MOUTH. It’s not rocket science, but logic ceased to exist all the same. Was it revolting, though? Sadly no, quite the opposite. The “100% beef” had major taco seasoning vibes happening, and that spice factor actually made something I’d planned to take a bite of and promptly projectile vomit against my wall ENJOYABLE.
Am I okay with the fact that I ate the whole thing? No, no I am not. Like, no joke, the feeling I have after eating that goddamn Whopperito and liking it is the same feeling that is had by someone who is trying to not be non-straight but kisses someone of the same sex and is like WHOA THAT WAS SO GREAT BUT ALSO WHO EVEN JUST SAID THAT LIKE NO IT WAS NOT. IT WAS NOT. NOPE. NOT ME.
So basically I am outing myself as a Whopperito fan, you guys. Also I wish I still had that quarter I gave the self-appointed doorman. Oh well.