BURGER KING (1670 sunset boulevard, los angeles) $
this delightful little burger joint just opened in my neck of the woods, and i can’t believe i didn’t spot it earlier! it’s tucked away in there on my way to kaiser, nestled between the scientology building and that medical place that has the quizno’s. a simple brick and orange exterior hid the treasures inside and lent the neighborhood a certain secret suave.
the name of this place is Burger King, and the King certainly shows his love of said sandwich by providing his subjects with a kingdom of the finest meats and cheeses, onions and pickles, ketchups and mustards and buns. so dazed was i by this selection that i scarcely noticed my feet fly out from under me, my soles failing to grasp a floor vividly marked “piso mojado!” i went down pretty hard. my bad…bad concussion, that is! alas, it was my fault for trying to get out of my scooter. but my time on the cold tile floor helped me assess the choices at hand.
before me lay an asgard of options, spanning this world and the valhalla of my digestion: hamburgers, cheeseburgers, crackered fish and crumbed chicken, delectable morsels of poultry battered and seasoned and dipped in an array of exotic sauces, simple fried potatoes and rings of onion. such delicious overkill! i gathered my scattered pencils and crystals, pulled myself back onto my trusty rascal, and prepared to order. my server waited patiently behind her stainless steel moat, not moving a muscle as i counted my pencils to make sure i had them all, and then again as i pondered my selection. a princess!
i always try the house specialty at any new establishment, and Burger King touts a monstrosity known locally as “the whopper”. this burger is the john goodman of food, a perfectly talented and charismatic mountain of a meal. it is currently available with some evil little co-stars known as “angry onions”, but only for a limited time. i selected a whopper (with cheese…why not?), a fish sandwich, a variety of chicken nuggets and a flight of sauces for dipping (and sneaking!), two more of those fish sandwiches, a couple of those big long chicken sandwiches, five cheeseburgers, three regular burgers, several onion rings, and several large fries for side-by-side-sides comparison purposes. the drink selection ran the gamut from refreshing colas to down-home country lemonade. and who can resist milkshakes? don’t look at me, your highness! i got choc, van, AND straw — the full neapolitan! (actually, two chocolates.) and two more whoppers. and the coffee, like my friend buster poindexter says, was hot hot hot! big points for that.
parents take note: if the menu or the portions seem too daunting, the King provides a smaller sandwich for his subjects called “whopper junior”, a princely burger for smaller landlubber appetites. i had a few of those, maybe six.
the bathrooms were impeccably clean, too, but not after i got done in there! i’m lucky i got my pants down. the handrail was bent pretty bad, but it was loose when i got in there anyway, and besides i didn’t use it.
when i rolled out of that magical place back onto the sidewalk, heading west into the rush-hour sunset toward my meeting, i was still buzzing from my first trip to the court of this scrumptious king. did it really happen? had it been but a dream? my breath was still spinning! my hands no longer reeked of barbecue sauce and angry onions, but of safeguard and foaming sanitizer. but thank god the smell — and the memory of my first joust with this benevolent King — was still down the front of my shirt.
i’ll be back, your highness…again and again and again and again and again.