Eating Healthy Junk
Hungover at 8:30 in the a.m., I recently staggered blearily to the vending machine at work
in search of a fattening, unhealthy snack to quell the tequila-induced rumblings in my
tummy.
The machine yielded your typical trail mix, Twizzlers, M&Ms, crap like that, which
I knew wouldn't cut it. I spotted a package of Pop Tarts, and plunked my $.80 in, feeling
this was the most absorbent junk I could get for my money.
I noticed that the packaging looked different from the foil-wrapped decadent treats I
remembered from my youth. Then I saw it. In a big red starburst, the package cheerfully
boasted "Now Made with Real Fruit!"
What the fu…? Made with real fruit!? What the hell is that all about? That's just
not right. People who want things that are "made with real fruit" or are
otherwise healthy will go ahead and select their favorite tree bark-flavored colon kickin'
cereal with fresh fruit on top and skim milk. They are NOT of the Pop Tart Clan, and
should be left to fend for themselves.
People who voluntarily select Pop Tarts for a morning, afternoon, evening or midnight
treat care nothing for healthy ingredients. They are either currently drunk and/or stoned,
or were very recently drunk and/or stoned and are now requiring a "morning
after" pick-me-up.
I tore off the offending wrapper and stuffed a tart into my mouth, biting off a huge
chunk to see if it was true.
I peered at the dark insides, and spotted something that looked suspiciously like
pieces of strawberry. Where was the over-bright Chernobyl-colored "fruit"
filling and that kick-you-in-the-crotch burst of faux "strawberry" flavor? Even
the icing was just a pale schmear of it's former thick, sugary goodness.
I was outraged at this infringement on my ability to suck down something that only
vaguely resembles an FDA-approved food product, and wrote to the Kellogg company
immediately.
They sent me a thank-you letter and 20 coupons for the exact product I had ranted and
raved about hating.
A similar thing happened one day when I went to Wendy's for lunch. I wanted fast,
greasy, fatty food that would soothe my soul and the Jack Daniels Brand pre-ulcerous
condition burning in my boozy belly.
I ordered a taco salad and a cup of chili. No one told me the taco salad was a "do
it yourself" project. Not one single component came in the same package.
Disgusted at having to work harder than I thought was necessary to assemble my lunch, I
turned eagerly to my chili. I opened the lid, and for a moment didn't understand what I
was looking at. Had they made a mistake filling my order?
There were…things…in there. Lots of different things. I recognized some
chunks of beef that looked real, not powdered or freeze-dried or lard-laden. I also
recognized beans. That was ok, it was chili after all.
But what was that other stuff? I prodded one firm, sage-colored entity with my spork. I
turned it over and over, and finally realized it was a large piece of celery.
I recoiled in horror.
But there was more, and although thoroughly terrified, I found myself drawn in despite
my revulsion. Whitish chunks revealed themselves as potatoes. Orange slabs turned out to
be carrots.
THERE WERE VEGETABLES IN MY FAST FOOD!
The consistency of the chili was like…like it was home cooked. It had none of the
pasty, unrecognizable slop quality I had been anticipating. I had voluntarily chosen
Wendy's for my lunchtime satiation, a famous "fast food" joint, and this is what
I get!?
Needless to say, I dropped the hideous mess into the nearest garbage receptacle faster
than a pedophile drops his pants on a playground and high-tailed it over to the Taco Bell,
where they know how to do chili right.
The horror of my Wendy's debacle still fresh in my mind, I peeked into my chili cheese
burrito, just to be sure.
Ah. Unrecognizable slop with small chunks of dehydrated re-hydrated beef swirled with
artificially colored Velveeta knock-off. Sweet Jesus, I was home.
- www.KCDrinker.com - 2003 ©
