When I was at Mass on Sunday night, I started craving Whataburger during the homily.
I go to Mass every Sunday at 6 p.m., and just about every time, I go on an empty stomach after a late breakfast and no lunch.
Whataburger is rarely my meal after Mass. Health reasons, you know. High cholesterol and high blood pressure. I wish I never saw doctors. They make me sick.
I figured Whataburger would make me feel good and satisfied.
So when Mass ended around 7:15, I headed up the highway to the closest Whataburger.
When I got there, I had a bad feeling. For a Sunday night, too many people were there. Too many people at any restaurant means slow service and terrible food.
Instead of going in, I ran an errand and then came back to Whataburger.
Not as many people as before and only one customer ahead of me.
When it was my turn, I ordered my go-to: A double cheeseburger with fries and a Coke.
After they brought out my order, I took a small bite of my double. It was cold. I went back to the counter and asked for a fresh one.
A couple in their 70s sat across from me and the woman said, “Yours was cold, too?”
I joked with her that maybe I shouldn’t have a double cheeseburger. The woman laughed as she and her husband ate their cold food.
My second double was also cold. I took it back for a new one and joked with the couple that I should have gone to Newk’s for a healthy sandwich because a double cheeseburger would blow up my blood work scheduled for Tuesday.
They laughed.
My third double was not a double. It was a single.
I had enough. I got my money back.
Before leaving, I told the couple, “If my wife had cooked dinner, this would have never happened.”
They laughed and I laughed off the whole experience.
Whataburger? Nope. More like Whatnotaburger.
