Today, I’d like to break down a brief exchange I overheard in the cafeteria. Our players are a young man and the grill cook.
“Is the garden burger vegetarian?”
This question, of course, came from the young man. You can suppose this because the grill cook should not be asking about the products he is charged with making unless it is his first day on the job.
The hat our friendly cook wore was emblazoned with the logo of the food service company that operated the cafeteria and was covered with grease in a quantity commensurate to the amount of pine tar George Brett used to have on his helmet when late August rolled around.
(Quick aside: If you don’t want to ready outdated references to the Kansas City Royals, you are probably reading the wrong blog.)
This dirty hat and the way he was quickly making all of the other orders that came his way leads me to believe it was not the cook’s first day on the job.
Anyway, the kid asks if the garden burger is vegetarian.
The cook hesitates before answering. I’m not sure if this is because he didn’t know, or if he thought that perhaps the young fellow did not understand what the word “garden” was implying.
I get it, though. Sometimes products brag about their veggie content and end up tasting delicious because they were soaked in the fat of some farm animal before landing on your plate. I understand that most people who are trying to be vegetarian would like to go all the way.
The cook finally uttered the word “yes” in affirmation.
The garden burger was indeed vegetarian.
I was momentarily happy for the young man, as it appeared he would be able to eat a somewhat healthy and guilt-free meal in a place that, quite frankly, did not appear to specialize in such delicacies.
His next move would shake me to my utter core.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll take the bacon cheeseburger combo.”
WHAT!!!
Forgive my overzealous use of the exclamation point, but I believe the quantity is not just appropriate, but required here.
I mean… What the fuck, right?
I get it if the young man had an internal dialogue about trying to be a better person, keeping some weight off, treating the planet better. He could have planned on getting the closest thing to a salad that a burger grill offered and then became overwhelmed when faced with the delicious prospect of a bacon cheeseburger.
But, that’s not what happened.
He very clearly asked for details on the content of the garden burger. If you care about a little pig-fat in your veggie patty, then you are all in on the vegetarian express.
If you would be willing to eat something that features the flesh of a pig and a cow and breaks more than a few kosher laws in its preparation, then why do you care if a garden burger contains some trace elements of Wilbur and Bessie?
Was he really just trying to decide whether to go bacon cheese or regular cheese, and using the garden burger question as a smokescreen while he made up his mind?
Was he concerned that the fries included in the combo might be cooked in animal fat? (I’m asking, quite seriously, if he was a cold-blooded hypocrite.)
Why would you break the flow of a poor grill cook who clearly wasn’t prepared to answer health-conscious questions about the heart-clogging meals he whipped up with mindless efficiency?
Seriously, what was this guy’s deal?
And, can I change my order to the bacon cheeseburger, please?
Photo credit: Clotee Pridgen Allochuku via Foter.com / CC BY
