Foodie Nightmares

Egads! CookBurger Got My Order Wrong Again

And other mayonnaise-related war crimes

Today this well-known burger chain, we'll call CookBurger ¹ for legal reasons, screwed up my order for the 138th time since the start of the pandemic.

It’s not the place you are thinking of.

No, not that one either.

Nice try, but your quick service frenemy also sells chicken.

Quit trying to guess who and read the story. Or better yet, keep this tab open and think deeply into the night. ²

I'm lovin' it

It's infuriating. Every time I go to CookBurger, my meal's always wrong. A blind octopus throwing Shuriken at the menu would be right sometimes. Shouldn't this level of incompetence be statistically impossible?

Getting the food I want? I have better odds watching Pokemon the Musical with Betty White's zombie in a Gobi Desert sand castle.

Not White Castle

Have it your way

This chain likes patrons to customize their orders.

Animal Style? No, keep guessing. Take all the time you need.

I ordered my grilled chicken sandwich with three simple toppings — Cajun spice, lettuce, and tomato. The teenager operating the cash register blandly stared at me lacking Mensa-level brain joules. Ignoring what I said, she rang my order Cajun Style. Honest mistake. It's almost the same order.

Except Cajun Style comes with mayonnaise. I wouldn't say I like mayonnaise.

I would rather eat 700 murder hornets drizzled in plague-wrapped asbestos than put one ounce of ivory-colored death sludge in my mouth.

Finger-lickin' good

My brain wants to rationalize my extreme response to mayo, but I won't let it. I'm angry. CookBurger wants to ruin my meal, my life, my future, and the entire human race by adding a gooey blob of pork fat napalm to my evening.

Eat Fresh

“Mark, it’s just mayo. What’s the big deal? Are you allergic?”

No.

“Health-conscious?”

Hilarious! No. I'm frequenting a restaurant that pretends quesadillas are a side item to a hamburger. I'm drinking a milkshake with one hundred calories for every time Donald Trump lied under oath. My fury is not related to my health.

“Do you blame Rebecca Mayo for the worst date of your life?”

I can't blame her for my animosity towards ole' white-nasty poison sauce. I should have recognized the signals. She wasn't into me. We didn't talk. We never kissed. Should I be surprised when Rebecca snuck out of the spring formal to hook up with the baseball team?

“Is it because when you were a child Mayo the Clown snuck onto your farm at night and killed your whole family?”

Oh man, I wish that was the reason.

“Wait, what?”

That sounds like a dark superhero origin story. Or the plot of the straight-to-DVD sequel "Slumdog Millionaire 3. This Time It's a Poor White Farm Kid."

“Oh, I thought you were implying…”

You know me better than that.

“Do I?”

Think Outside the Bun

I would be much calmer if I knew CookBurger had made an honest mistake on this order. But they didn't. It was personal.

Exhibit A: The conversation I had with the CookBurger employee of the month before I received my food.

“Excuse me, ma'am. It usually says “no mayo” on my receipt. Please make sure there’s no mayo on my chicken sandwich.”

“Uhhhh — You ordered it with mayo.”

I try to stay calm, using all my willpower to prevent raging in bearded-Karen mode.

“No, I told you the three toppings I wanted on the chicken. Mayo was not one of the toppings. Please make sure there is no mayo on my chicken.”

After the bumpy start, visit # 139 is filled with hope. The unenthusiastic employee disappears to talk to her manager. After a few minutes, she returns with my food in a take-out bag.

I drive home expectantly, unwrap my meal, and take a big juicy bite out of a chicken sandwich. My stomach churns upon discovering the white bile excretions of Satan dripping from my mouth.

Again.

Well played, Cookburger. You and your disgusting albino turd Marmelade win this round.

CookBurger: 139

Mark: 0

Footnotes:

¹ This legal advice cost me $1200. Worth every penny!

² According to Harvard Business Review, the best exercise for your memory is to keep this story open and scroll your mouse around every 60 seconds.

If you found this funny, you might like:

For some other MuddyUm fun, try these.