Delicious Stockings
I just saw a killer hamburger. Like: of the KHOA. The Killer Hamburgers of America.
As long as I’ve been working here, rumors have circulated about a mysterious hospital cafeteria within walking distance. This legendary City of Food is reported to be cheap, quick, and delicious. The delicious part was the most suspect, considering the place was a hospital café. But today, due to time constraints born of having to heat and then slowly eat an empinada (see: Mexican or Argentinian food) given me by a coworker, I couldn’t leave for lunch. Also I still don’t have a car.
“Where’s the nearest gas station?” I said.
“That way,” the Argentinian said. “You’d better run.”
And run I did! Actually, I did not. Because upon walking out the door I saw this gay fellow I work with walking out of a building…THAT WAS A HOSPITAL! And he was holding a paper cup.
In hushed tones, the Secret of the Hospital Cafeteria was related to me.
And in I went. And there was that fat guy from the help desk! And the child molester-looking guy I see sometimes outside, dressed in scrubs that showed his chest hair! I puked! And then I walked into the cafeteria.
And this is where I saw the killer hamburger. He was on a menu, this anthropomorphic hamburger, just like the ones Wells and I used to interview for those documentary comics we made about them. The resemblance was uncanny! What really put it over the edge—what made it a genuine killer hambuger and not just some burger with legs and arms and eyes—is that he lookd superpissed. His eyes were slanted forward in a look that can only be called devious. And he brandished a spatuala. He looked ready to beat hell out of any cook that came too close.
So I ordered the black bean burger. And let me tell you, if you order the black bean burger with pepperjack cheese, you will think they have accidentally dropped the bean patty and cheese and put a 22 year-old redheaded goth in fishnets between the buns. Because it’s that damn good.
As long as I’ve been working here, rumors have circulated about a mysterious hospital cafeteria within walking distance. This legendary City of Food is reported to be cheap, quick, and delicious. The delicious part was the most suspect, considering the place was a hospital café. But today, due to time constraints born of having to heat and then slowly eat an empinada (see: Mexican or Argentinian food) given me by a coworker, I couldn’t leave for lunch. Also I still don’t have a car.
“Where’s the nearest gas station?” I said.
“That way,” the Argentinian said. “You’d better run.”
And run I did! Actually, I did not. Because upon walking out the door I saw this gay fellow I work with walking out of a building…THAT WAS A HOSPITAL! And he was holding a paper cup.
In hushed tones, the Secret of the Hospital Cafeteria was related to me.
And in I went. And there was that fat guy from the help desk! And the child molester-looking guy I see sometimes outside, dressed in scrubs that showed his chest hair! I puked! And then I walked into the cafeteria.
And this is where I saw the killer hamburger. He was on a menu, this anthropomorphic hamburger, just like the ones Wells and I used to interview for those documentary comics we made about them. The resemblance was uncanny! What really put it over the edge—what made it a genuine killer hambuger and not just some burger with legs and arms and eyes—is that he lookd superpissed. His eyes were slanted forward in a look that can only be called devious. And he brandished a spatuala. He looked ready to beat hell out of any cook that came too close.
So I ordered the black bean burger. And let me tell you, if you order the black bean burger with pepperjack cheese, you will think they have accidentally dropped the bean patty and cheese and put a 22 year-old redheaded goth in fishnets between the buns. Because it’s that damn good.
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