August 17, 2006 | Category:

Meat Service

The scene: a busy, but incredibly efficient burger establishment in one of Britain’s biggest theme parks. The restaurant is noisy and crowded, full of large groups from all over the world. It’s a hot day, and mistakes are made. A handsome rogue of a man called, say, Gary, approaches the crowded counter, burger in hand. A gap appears next to the manager into which our hero slides, just making it in before a crowd of German tourists encroach. The manager is a slight woman, looking a little frazzled by the non-stop churn of customers, but earnestly focussed on making things run smoothly.

Gary
Hello, I’ve got a problem: my cheeseburger doesn’t have any cheese.
Manager
No, cheeseburgers do have cheese.

Pause. Close-up as our protagonist’s winning smile melts into a dazed confusion. Several seconds pass before he manages to pull himself together following this surprising retort.

Gary
Yes, but this one does not.
Manager
No, it will have.

Another, shorter, pause. The conversation plays out again in the now slightly rattled young man’s head. Maybe he imagined that this cheeseburger does not have cheese. It’s certainly in a cheeseburger wrapper, and a cheeseburger is exactly what was ordered. No, no self doubt. Why would he have gotten out of his chair and gotten through the bustle if there had not been an error? It made no sense. No, be a little more forceful.

Gary
I understand that cheeseburgers generally have cheese, but I assure you that this is cheeseburger is lacking that particular ingredient.
Manager
It’s a cheeseburger, it has cheese.
Gary
I honestly think that you should open the wrapper up and see for yourself on this one.

The manager, becoming less distracted elsewhere and more prominently aware of the clear nuisance in front of her, stops and examines the package. It is clearly marked as a cheeseburger. She opens it, one exaggerated movement after another to unwrap, and examines the questionable meat product. A cooling wave of surprise washes over her on this hot day, before her feet storm her across to the burger rack where she picks up another cheeseburger. Back across at the counter, she slams it down, never raising her head to show the shame of defeat, before walking off, not a word spoken.

You can’t make this shit up.