Before we start… can I just check that you have watched episode one of The Body Farm..? If not, you can find it here. I’ll wait. You don’t have to watch it all, you’ll know when you get to the bit I’m going to reference by the end of this post…
So, on a previous visit to McDonalds I espied the above limited edition 1955 Burger (not £19.55 burger, that would be silly) on their menu, but being the cheese phobic that I am didn’t order it.
After some internet research, I concluded that the stuff towards the top, as seen below wasn’t melted cheese but “1955 Sauce”. Chancing that this didn’t mean it was produced back then and had been sitting in a vat in their warehouse for 56 years and was, rather, based on a 1955 recipe, I decided that this was something worth trying on my next visit.
Being that today was my next occasion to visit, I gleefully ordered my definately-not-a-Whopper-with-different-name meal, got the food to a table and opened the container.
But something was wrong.
Someone had swapped my 1955 Burger (see above) for what could generously be described as possibly a 1935 Burger* while my back was turned.
Just in case you can’t spot them there are two strips of bacon in there, along with most of the other components alluded to in the ingredients list for the product. Just not very many of each. I added the barbecue sauce myself. Y’know. To make it more like a Whopper.
Perhaps they only called it the 1955 Burger though because the more appropriate branding had already been stolen by their neighbouring hotdog vendor, Rollover..?
The Great Tasting Lame Cooked Burger, which you’ll notice makes no claims to being grilled over a flame, just having the taste of flame. Actually, that does sound a bit lame, maybe that advertising wasn’t in error.
I actually used to enjoy the Hotdogs from Rollover, until they gave me food poisoning many years ago. Well it was them or the Cherry Coke.
Cherry Coke was around for a while when I was young. Then it sort of vanished and they brought it back about 2002/2003 I think.
Anyway, I had nipped to Braehead for lunch and bought a meal at Rollover and ate it on the way back to the office. As the afternoon went on though my stomach began to feel unsettled.
Since it was a sort of burpy/trapped hiccup feeling my feeling was that copious amounts of a carbonated drink, say… Cherry Coke, for example, would help shift it.
I continued to sip at it for the remainder of the day, not really feeling any better. At home I chose to forgo dinner and sat upstairs on the bed still quaffing my chosen beverage.
Hi. Let me just interrupt here to check how you got on with your The Body Farm viewing. Quick test; if you comprehend what the phrases “good spread” and “human Shippams” will imply below, please continue onto the next paragraph. If not, reader discretion is advised…
Then, out of the blue, something didn’t feel right. A buried memory of a rare and hated event vividly leapt back into my mind.
I jumped from the bed and ran out the door. As I crossed the top landing to the bath room something exploded up my throat and into my mouth. Clamping a hand across the orifice in question I continued on managing to lift the toilet lid before the surge of vomit burst from my mouth. The next several seconds seemed to take a lifetime to pass but by the end I was barely upright, shaking as my heaving subsided, drenched in sweat.
Sweat and my own darkly coloured gastric contents.
But it wasn’t just me. Other than the ceiling and the floor directly behind me the walls, floor, toilet, sink and curtains were all covered in a layer of this regurgitation.
Over the years I’ve come to appreciate that I have quite a strong gag reflex. I’m no medical expert but assume that’s maybe related to the force which I am actually sick with on the very infrequent occasions I am. Either that or the volume of spew which has backed up in the ten or so years between occasions of it happening all comes out at once.
I’ve never indulged in Rollover products or Chery Coke, since that day just to be on the safe side though…
*1935, being the middle of The Great Depression for those readers slow on the uptake…