Five Breakfast Sandwiches & Only One Can Rule Them All
^ Chipotle Mayo is a condiment most deserving of a religious movement
As I crest my mid-30s, like an ominous force that crescendos during horror movies, the damage done to my body in my 20s is resurfacing in haunting ways. Running left around a track for 11 years has plagued the left side of my body with constant injuries. Apparently for women, hair loss at your hairline is being attributed to ponytails tied a bit too tight throughout life, a nauseating “ah ha” moment. Millennials’ fundamental developmental years were before the time of retinol, therapy, collagen, self-awareness on social media, makeup tutorials on youtube, etc, etc. So here we are: filled to the gills with microplastics, desperately trying to reverse our past penchant for tanning beds, doing literally anything to grow our eyebrows back, and struggling to express the most basic of feelings. Every day is a game of wack-a-mole with mental and physical defects.
Drinking in moderation has been a life skill most millennials were not encouraged to embrace during our first trysts with alcohol. Ice luges didn’t cultivate an idea of self restraint, beer pong didn’t advocate pacing oneself, taking pulls from a handle of Jameson didn’t encourage portion control, and shots became an affixed reward pathway in our mind. While power hours are a thing of the past and we no longer drink in backyards that look like those of state penitentiaries, we still seem to be working on the moderation aspect, which is where breakfast sandwiches come in.
Hangovers now occur with an easier prompt, more violence, and longer repercussions, and on an opposing linear trajectory, Advil, water, and sleep are losing their combating impact. While it’s probably more psychosomatic than anything, the white night of my 30s hangover has been the breakfast sandwich. Almost every iteration is acceptably good, with those that are great cementing themselves in your dreams.
So for this newsletter, my gluttony sidekick Frances and our reinforcement Patricia selflessly covered 5 breakfast sandwiches, all in the name of being martyrs for the next morning you find yourself utterly unwell.
George’s Egg Sandwich at Thai Diner
This breakfast sandwich will get permanently lodged in your head for eternity like Mambo No. 5. This breakfast sandwich is the feeling right after taking off Spanx that you’ve been wearing for the entire evening. This breakfast sandwich has the sex appeal of a molten lava cake in the 90s. This breakfast sandwich owned Heelys. This breakfast sandwich is the unspoken zenith of satisfaction you experience watching a pimple popping video. This breakfast sandwich is the stuffed animal mountain in the Disney Store from childhood. This breakfast sandwich got a reservation at Corner Store.
Grade: 10/10
Egg McMuffin at McDonald’s
This breakfast sandwich is the helpless feeling of shame as you wait for an employee to notice you at self-checkout because you messed something up. This breakfast sandwich is a corrective pencil grip. This breakfast sandwich is a catastrophic health insurance plan. This sandwich is playing M*A*S*H and ending up in a shack, with 47 kids, married to Kanye West, driving the local M102 bus. This breakfast sandwich is getting a laser pointer shone in your eye. This breakfast sandwich is “Who let the dogs out”. This breakfast sandwich is a 39 year old man who just told you he’s not ready for a serious commitment. This breakfast sandwich was the one behind all of the the political spam texts.
Grade: 1/10
Egg and Cheese sandwich at C&B
This breakfast sandwich has the confidence of
someone who is wearing Gymshark. This breakfast sandwich only uses SPF 4 tanning oil. This breakfast sandwich is the sensory overload that is a Bass Pro Shop. This breakfast sandwich sincerely orders a Mocha Frappuccino before 8am. This breakfast sandwich is the audacity of a duvet needing to be put inside of a duvet cover. This breakfast sandwich is the Old Navy Tech Vest hysteria in the fall of 1999. This breakfast sandwich is one of Guy Fieri’s Horcruxes. This breakfast sandwich is a $20 800-page coupon book that promises to save you thousands. This breakfast sandwich denies that it has fillers.
Grade: 7/10
The Egg & Cheese at Smør
This breakfast is in boarding zone 1. This breakfast sandwich is how badly you wanted to speak french after watching the Muzzy commercial when you were 6 years old. This breakfast sandwich is the ignorant bliss after your parents drop you off at the mall at age 13 with $20, no phone, no credit card, and 6 hours to aimlessly wander, utterly unburdened. This breakfast sandwich is the understated perfection of a side of rice pilaf. This breakfast sandwich is the unspoken arrangement that still keeps you on your parents’ family plan. This breakfast sandwich is a 1st place ribbon at Field Day. This breakfast sandwich is Brad Pitt in Fight Club.
Grade: 9.5/10
The Egg & Cheese at Daily Provisions
This breakfast sandwich is the chokehold Go-Gurt had on you in 2nd grade. This breakfast sandwich posted a barely discernible eclipse picture on its instagram feed. This breakfast sandwich is watching We Bought a Zoo mid-flight to distract yourself from the fact that you’re defying gravity, suspended at 10,000 feet midair, hurtling through the sky, all while experiencing severe turbulence. This breakfast sandwich mutually ghosts you. This breakfast sandwich only has soy milk as a dairy-free alternative. This breakfast sandwich is the thousands of dollars you spent on iTunes for music you now listen to for free on Spotify. This breakfast sandwich is the Hollister seagull.
Grade: 5/10