In other words, adding guacamole, bacon and a mess of raw white onion slices to the Whopper won't make it weird.
The Burger King location at 3200 Downing Street -- or, as I have derisively nicknamed it, "The one that's always out of Kung Pao dipping sauce tubs" -- seemed like a convenient spot to try the guacamole Whopper. But when I was at the counter, I noticed something truly worth celebrating: Cinnabon-branded cinnamon roll Minibons. These 300-calorie baby buns looked every bit as tantalizing as the ones in the warm glass cases at the mall stores, and since the classic Cinnabon rolls have a little over 800 calories each, I could shovel down three of these without hitting the guilty, self-hating place.I ordered a California Whopper, fries and two Minibons -- predictably, there was no Kung Pao sauce for those fries. But when I picked up my tray a few minutes later and unwrapped the burger, I was earnestly disappointed: The patty was cold, dry and wrinkled; it smelled like crappy barbeque sauce; there was a scanty amount of cold bacon on it -- and no guacamole in sight. I figured either BK had just given up, or the employees had run out of avocado paste. Or perhaps I'd just gotten the wrong burger.
So I did something I don't normally do: I took the burger back up to the counter to request a new one. I f*cking hate doing this; I wouldn't dare go back through a drive-thru, and even returning fast-food items at the counter is dicey, because sometimes all it takes is one scudgy employee having a passive-aggressive brain-nugget to smile and give me back a spit-burger -- or worse. (I've seen those vid clips of fast-food employees doing things unsavory things with lettuce.)
The female counter employee pushed the tray back toward me and told me that it was a California Whopper. I told her it was clearly a Whopper of some kind, just not the one I ordered. She took the cardboard burger box, opened it, spent a few minutes arguing with another employee in the back, then came out and told me they'd make me a new one. I stood at the counter and watched, and she brought out the new burger and unapologetically handed it to me.There was mild jerkassery here, but I don't excrete where I eat, and arguing with fast food workers is the second worst time-waster in the world, up there with voting Green Party.