My Nemesis, the Pickle

A few years back, I wrote a post about my nemesis, the pickle.

 

I attributed the reason for the ubiquity of the pickle where it is not wanted to organized crime.

 

The pickle on your burger or next to your club sandwich is a mafia mandated pickle.

 

I thought I would share some recent encounters with that sour vegetable that springs from the roots of hell’s garden.

 

About once a month, we go to Chili's and Andrea gets the same damn thing: crispy chicken crispers.  Now that sounds like a marketing idea from the department of redundancy department but there is a version of the chicken crisper that is not… crisp.  Although “crisp” is in the name.

 

Meanwhile, I get the same thing, something called the Old Timer Burger which is rather cost efficient burger that has nothing on it I don’t want.  Except pickles. 

 

I always make sure to emphasize to the wait person that I want this with NO pickles. 

 

So far only one person has brought me back an Old Timer with a pickle.

 

They will not do that again.

 

 

I’m am serious when I say NO pickles.

 

Last Saturday, after Andrea and I voted, we had lunch at Freddie’s where I ordered 2 hamburgers, both with the same toppings: tomato, lettuce and mayo.  When I brought our repast back to our table,  Andrea’s burger had tomato, lettuce and mayo.  The other burger had mustard and big honking slabs of dill pickle. 

 

WTF? Really?

 

Andrea and I have an on-again/off again battle with McAllister’s Deli vis a vie, the dreaded pickle. Every other Saturday is McAllister day for dinner and I order sandwiches for Andrea and myself and we indulge in their carrot cake.  For the sandwiches, there is a button to click if you do not want a pickle. I ALWAYS click that button for NO pickle. About every 3rd order, there is a big slab of dill pickle nestled next to our sandwich. 

 

A few weeks back, the pickle invasion reached a ridiculous level.  There was a pickle with Andrea’s sandwich, my sandwich and (I’m not making this up) the carrot cake!!!  

 

WTF? A PICKLE?!?! With CAKE?!?!  

 

Thankfully the cake was plastic wrapped and protected from the noxious odor and juices of the offending pickle but still…

 

Come on!! A PICKLE?!?! With CAKE?!?!  

 

When I got the email asking me for a survey, I sent a reply: “Guys! We need to talk about this pickle situation.” 

 

Why oh why must I be challenged so, to constantly be on my guard every waking moment lest the pernicious and persistent pickle pierce my perimeter.

 

And I am so glad my suffering amuses you.