Queen of the Castle

I have a confession to make. My friends were somewhat shocked when I revealed this to them, although I didn’t think it would be quite as big a deal as it eventually became: I have never eaten at White Castle in my life. I must admit, though, that I contemplate it every time I drive by the one near my house.
I was driving around with Nat and Seamus a few weeks ago when I first shared this piece of information, and it sparked a debate that would have put Dick Cheney and John Edwards to shame. (John who? Edwards. He ran for Vice President a long time ago.)
Seamus was gung ho on introducing me to something called “a slider,” when Nat intervened and warned me that they’re called sliders because they shoot right through your intestines in about six seconds flat. Since the memory of my last gastrointestinal crisis is still somewhat fresh in my mind, I decided against the 30 for $15 bag of burgers. Thirty burgers? I mean, I realize that they’re kind of small, but what the hell am I going to do with thirty hamburgers? I suppose after I eat one or two of them, I could just throw the rest at cars to see if they stick.
Once I opted out of the slider, I found myself strangely intrigued by something called “Chicken Rings.” I really just got used to the concept of eating chicken fingers, so there’s something a little disturbing about imagining what part of the chicken the chicken ring comes from.
Well, for now both the slider and chicken ring will continue to remain a mystery. But if White Castle comes out with something called “Fish Necks,” I may finally have to cave in.

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