I’ve heard about them, but had never seen one in person until today.
Years ago, when Jeeg and I were in college, we would run to the nearby Burger King and grab a bag full of 99 cent Whoppers. The two of us would have sick eating contests where we could see how much we could consume in one sitting. On one occasion, I ate three Whoppers, fries and a shake. So, in that sense, I’ve had the components of a Triple Whopper, but I’ve never actually eaten a Triple Whopper. Eating three Whoppers is different than eating a Triple Whopper. The flame-broiled patties to bun ratio is vastly different and would seem to offer an even more satisfying meal in spite of it actually being less food. (At least, that’s the way it was with the Wendy’s Triple which I have had.)
But eating like that is a thing of the past. Or should be. In the past three years, I’ve slimmed down considerably from where I once was and have plenty more I can and should get rid of. I know it’s not good for me to eat a Triple Whopper so when I visit a Burger King, I don’t even acknowledge that it’s on the menu. I put that out of my mind.
That said, if I’m in the same room with a Triple Whopper, it’s hard not to think about eating one. Even if I shouldn’t eat a Triple Whopper, does that mean I can’t appreciate the beauty of one? I don’t know. I guess it’s about willpower, not taking things too far and stuff like that. When my coworker Shannon mistakenly ordered* a Triple Whopper today and brought it to the office, I had to save this rare (er…well, actually flame-broiled) moment for posterity.
* Shannon said I could post these photos as long as I was clear in saying that she did not actually eat this Triple Whopper. When visiting Burger King today, she was distracted by the transvestite working behind the counter who took her order. Flustered by his (I guess?) admiration of the boots she was wearing, Shannon quickly looked up and ordered a “Number three.” Unfortunately, she did not look at the menu close enough and ordered a Triple Whopper meal instead of the Whopper, Jr. meal.
Distracted by Shannon’s boots, the worker did not bat an eyelash (and it is my understanding he had some pretty ones to bat) at her order. It was when her order was called that Shannon discovered a “Number three” was in fact the Triple Whopper meal. Realizing that the mistake was hers, she graciously took her meal and came to work. Upon which, she was generous enough to pose with her 3/4 pound burger for some pictures. In the end, she discarded two of the patties and had a regular Whopper. (Yes, discarded. They were offered to me and I turned them down! Willpower, that’s what I’m talking about!)