How Dare You Call That Bacon!

I don’t mind turkey bacon but Richard dislikes it. And I dislike the thick bacon he buys mostly because it does not taste like bacon. The first thick bacon we tried tasted like ham. If I wanted ham I would add ham not a slice of bacon that tastes like ham. This morning’s bacon was even worse –

 pork chop flavored. Nothing wrong with pork chops I guess – but they do seem dry and lacking in flavor. Bonnie was okay with it. I think she relished the thought that I really didn’t want it. 

 I remember my mom fixing pork chop only one way. She would add potatoes, carrots and cream of mushroom soup. I told Richard that is what we need to do with this sad version of “bacon”.

A Letter to Jack Clown

 Real letter Corey had written to Jack in the Box:

Dear Jack,

Oh, you cruel, cruel clown! How dare you play with my heart and taste buds so callously.

I wonder, Jack Box, if you understand the damage you have done to my psyche, tongue, and stomach by introducing the sensational menu item, your Hershey-filled Chocolate Croissant Bites only to rip them away from me like a child is snatched from his loving mother's arms. I assume you must delight in the ruthless torture of loyal customers such as myself.

These sweet little flaky delights have been my one bright spot of sunshine in this dark pandemic-saturated world we currently find ourselves in. Congratulations, Jack! Like some devious drug dealer, you have succeeded in hooking me on these scrumptious pieces of heaven only to pull them away from me with no concern for the consequences to my now-dying taste buds.

As that warm, melty, gooey, chocolatey goodness once filled those delicate flaky pastry bites, so was my soul filled with the joy that came from partaking of each warm, delicious morsel of your now-discontinued product. If you think your Mini Churros, New York Style Cheesecake, or Chocolate Overload Cake could possibly fill the void you have left my palate with, you are sadly, sadly mistaken. I am bereft, Jack. Bereft because of you!

I guess my question to you, Jack, you malevolent mountebank, is simply this: Why?

Why offer these enticing delights for a "limited time?" What were you trying to prove? That you could crush a customer's heart, appetite, and dreams just as easily as you captured them? Was this just some perverted, sadistic experiment to you?

Jack, I have been a loyal customer of your brand for some time now. I enjoy so many of your menu items. Your customer service has been beyond compare. But alas, Jack, how dolefully you have disappointed me with this latest, pitiless ruse. How empty you have left me feeling now that I can no longer sate my cravings with your mouthwatering creation.

Tonight, Jack, I only wanted one thing: these bites. When your employee told me they were no longer available, she may as well have thrust a dagger into my heart. And so, Jack, I went home—aggrieved, disconsolate, and unsatisfied.

You, Jack, have the power to rekindle the cold, dead, unlit fire in my heart. I make a heartfelt plea to you. I don't need these Chocolate Croissant Bites. My health and weight are better off without them. But for the sake of my sanity and the lack of gaiety you have left in your barbaric wake, please, Jack, I beg of you, bring back the one solace I had during these times of distress. Bring back these tantalizing treats. Grant me my Chocolate Croissant Bites once more.

Cordially yours,

An anxious, troubled soul and patron of your once-magnificent establishment,

[Corey Cannon]