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I have discovered the cause of the obesity epidemic which has spread throughout the United States: Denny’s. No, I’m not kidding. And no, there’s no need to thank me; this genius comes naturally.
Ok, so here’s the scoop… The husband and I had to go to Troy to purchase a pair of cleats for his bullfighting endeavor this past weekend.
While in Troy, after finding one heck of a deal on some fancy sneakers, we figured what better to do than enjoy some tasty dinner following a successful shopping trip? (There is nothing better, for those of you who do not grasp the concept of a rhetorical question)
So we ventured to Denny’s, and that, my friends, is where the trouble started.
Upon entering the dimly lit bistro, I was nearly knocked out by the smell of deep-fried deliciousness. A large sign emblazoned with their most recent promotion, “Baconalia,” stood proudly by the register. A further examination of the board presented a lovely slogan: “surrender to your bacon obsession.”
Before I continue, please let me mention, no one, I mean not a single nobody nowhere, loves bacon more so than Amy Elizabeth Gillum-Patterson. I like bacon in and on everything and at all hours of the day.
However (!), would I consider this passion an obsession? No. Do I wake up in the middle of the night craving bacon? It has been known to happen, sure. This still doesn’t make an obsession. An obsession, by definition, is “a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling.”
Denny’s has an obsession with bacon. All corners of this restaurant are pasted with bacon-this and bacon-that. I can only imagine how Denny’s thinks of bacon when no one’s around. That is an obsession.
Moving forward, I got over the initial shock to my system that all of this bacon-palooza nonsense caused. My heartrate returned to normal and the tremors eased.
Mr. Patterson and I chose a booth on the far end of the restaurant, which, looking back, was probably not the best choice.
As we took our seats, a waitress with “I washed it last week” hair and bags under her eyes gleefully approached the booth. Before asking for our beverage requests, she took a brief moment to rub a spot of what I can only assume was powdered sugar into the berber carpet with her food-service-issue tennis shoes. I requested an iced coffee (yet another bad decision), and the gentleman said he would take a sweet tea. She shuffled to the kitchen to fulfill our desires.
I cracked open the menu, yes cracked (you know how sticky menus snap and crack when you pry open the pages), and retreated in horror at what befell my eyes. Caramel Bacon Stuffed French Toast? BBQ Bacon Mac ‘n Cheese Bites? Salted Caramel Brownie Sundae with Bacon? Maple bacon milkshake?! I prayed the Dear Lord would strike me down and take me from that place.
Please remember, I love bacon. And don’t think I wasn’t tempted by the idea of an ice cream sundae with bacon bits on top. Sounds so bad that it just has to be good, right?
I am all for experimentation in the kitchen. I value my culinary skills and my ability to tweak recipes to suit my taste. Denny’s has taken this theory and thrown it over a fudge-covered cliff. Yes, a cheeseburger is good. A cheeseburger slathered in nacho cheese, wrapped in bacon, then battered and deep fried? Not good. (Just kidding, I didn’t actually see that on the menu, but I give it three weeks before it’s the new blue plate special).
Perhaps it was the combination of cigarette smoke and fry grease wafting into my nostrils or the general uniform of the patrons, consisting of sweatpants and stained t-shirts which pushed me over the edge; we’ll never be sure.
However, I can be sure that there was nothing any human was capable of doing to make my soup and salad dinner come fast enough. I was going deaf from the screams of sugar-laden children and the open-mouthed-chomp and chew of the other customers.
Long story short, this is why we’re the most obese country in the whole wide world. We have to be bigger and better and louder and faster than everyone else. Maybe we should all just chill our grills for a little while, go for a walk (or 10), and eat a salad. I love salad… Almost as much as I love bacon.
*Editor’s Note: I really do like Denny’s. I like that the Mister and I got drinks (not water), an appetizer, and two full meals for $30 (including a tip). I like that they appeal to a large audience and have a laid-back atmosphere. I am simply trying to make the generalization between America’s restaurants and obesity, and this is the first time I’ve eaten out in the last several weeks.
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