Figure 1 - Note to Burger King's marketing department: I do not see onion rings this way. (Original image copyright New Line Cinemas)

In an effort to save time so I could run some errands on my lunch break, I decided to go through the drive thru at a local Burger King. After departing with my food sitting comfortably in my passenger seat, I reached over to open the bag at the first red light I came to. The repugnant smell that filled my car as I opened the bag confirmed my worst fear.

There was an onion ring in my fries.

If you love onion rings, this may have been the high point of your day. You, being the onion ring whore enthusiast that you are, might consider this a welcomed error in fry scooping committed by the Burger King staff. You look around after seeing this orphaned onion “treat” in your fries as if you have just gotten away with the ultimate fast food crime. You think of all of the poor bastards who just got the fries they ordered as you eat the one ring in eighths, if only to savor its onion goodness for a little longer.

I, on the other hand, do not perceive this situation to be in my favor. Let’s get one thing straight. I hate onion rings. There are foods that I’ve tried and simply did not like, and then there are foods like onion rings–foods belonging to an elite group worthy of my most abhorrent feelings. This group includes, but is not limited to: mayonnaise, olives, and bull testicles. I have different reasons as to why each of these is deserved of so much hate, but for the sake of taking the focus off of bovine nutsacks, I’ll tell you why I hate onion rings so much.

Realize that I’ve had onions cooked into my food, and even cooked them in myself. Quite frankly, I don’t mind them in this state. I’ve also tried raw onions, whether they be plain or on a sandwich, and I strongly dislike them. My hate for onion rings goes deeper than a strong dislike, however. What separates the aforementioned strong dislike for raw onions from my passionate hate for onion rings is that the latter ruins all other foods within its stupid dumb vicinity. An onion ring is like a wet dog. Everything it touches smells like it, tastes like it, and has most likely been humped by a wet dog.

Despite how disappointed I had been that onion ring rankness (and for some unknown, completely masculine reason, tears) had permeated the tasty glory of my french fries, I could understand the mistake. It is completely understandable that the day’s designated fry scooper did not take the care to ensure this particular assemblage of french fries was not infiltrated by an onion ring coup. I worked fast food in high school for minimum wage, I know what it’s like. I mean, when you’re getting paid the minimum anyone legally gets paid, how hard are you going to work? Yes, I understand waitresses get paid less base plus tips, but you get the point.

Figure 2 - No, they wouldn't be special. They would be the onion rings I ordered, had I wanted them, jerks.

No, I was not particularly upset with the staff of that particular Burger King. It was Burger King’s corporate marketing department that had my finger wagging. This is because, upon removing the tainted fry box from my bag of food, I looked at the fry box and saw the image you see in figure 2.

Burger King had in effect attempted to re-frame a commonly occurring minor miscue by its staff in the preparation of my food order by informing me that this mistake is “an extra treat.” An extra treat would be a deep fried ear or something so I could sue the pants off of them in the interest of stopping the continuation of this brainwashing.

Not only am I supposed to enjoy this onion ring and thank your creepy monarchal mascot for this unwanted surprise, but I am to believe that this particular onion ring “doesn’t play by the rules” and is “an outsider?” I am to believe that somehow, my food has a social disorder of disassociation from its own kind, and a rebellious tendency to disrupt the equilibrium of potato related food products? Well, it was quite obvious that this “lone loop in a sea of spuds” most certainly pissed in the pool, because all of my french fries tasted like onions.

I have news for Burger King. Ringers do appear often…when people order onion rings. They are not special in this case, or any case, because they are food. I understand you’re trying to boost the self confidence of these psychologically disturbed onion rings, but not at the expense of my french fries. Roget’s thesaurus describes a “ringer” as follows:

Main Entry:	double
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	One exactly resembling another.
Synonyms:	duplicate, image, picture, portrait, spitting image

Nice try, Burger King. Onion rings are not fries, nor are they the spitting image of fries. They are onion rings, and I hate them. Keep them out of my potato paradise, and do not make excuses for the ones that meander into my order. Just give me extra ketchup so I can drown the putrid and turn it into awesome.

When did “have it your way” become, “have it this way because we’re too lazy to fix it, but trust us, you’ll like it”?