You can't make me...

I'm not a picky eater. Truly, I'm not. When we were kids, my mom made sure that we were exposed to a wide variety of food. (In fact, I didn't realize how diverse my tastes really were until I met my husband, but his penchant for cheeseburgers and pizza will be left for another blog post.) As a child I LOVED frog legs, lobster, and most vegetables. Friday night, however, I was accused of being a picky eater. Why, you may ask? What is so heinous that I refuse to try it? The answer: White Castle. Let's back up a bit now.

As a child, the only familiarity I had with White Castle was the fact that it sat nestled on its corner of Indianapolis Blvd. and 119th Street in Whiting where I grew up. This White Castle served as a reminder that we were officially leaving Robertsdale and entering Whiting. Its corner was also the site for our family and friends to set up camp for the annual 4th of July parade (a Whiting extravaganza!). So, in my defense, I DO have some warm and fuzzy feelings about White Castle...at least the building.

The first time I was ever even IN a White Castle, I was 17. My boyfriend's mom was bringing a group of us home after a concert, and we stopped to "eat." I did not eat. I had a pop.

The second and LAST time I was in a White Castle was this past Friday night, and it is important that you know it was under duress. I was (essentially) forced to enter this establishment. Before I get ahead of myself, let me explain how this horrific trip came to be.

Friday night started out rather low-key. I came home from work and began getting ready to attend/chaperone Senior Banquet. Before heading off to be sure that no babies were conceived on the dancefloor at senior banquet, I kissed my loving husband good-bye and reminded him that we would be hanging out with the Verpootens after the banquet.

A side note about this year's senior class: I love (most of) them. I really do, but they are the laziest group of kids I've EVER encountered! Since they are a great class, I was actually looking forward to the event. At our school, seniors dress up in costumes for the dinner and dance. This year there were some AMAZING costumes. My favorites included: Waldo from Where's Waldo?, Pee Wee Herman (complete with Schwinn and bowtie!), the Fandango bags, and an array of superheroes.

Sarah and I cocoused and decided that the three of us (she, her husband, and I) would leave the banquet after awards were handed out. While I was happy and proud of all my students who won awards, I was MOST thrilled that our niece, Ashley won for "Best Looking Girl" in the senior class. Michael insists that it's in the Samples genes. I'm hoping! :)

Around 9 o'clock we headed toward Crown Point to pick up Michael. A brief discussion of plans and 45 minutes later we were headed to Frickie's Bowling Alley. Mike and I have only lived in Crown Point for a year or so, thus we were not really sure where one should go bowling on a Friday night at 9:45. Google said Frickie's. Google did NOT say that Frickie's has only eight lanes, all of which look like they were installed in 1965 when the structure was initally built, nor did Google mention that Frickie's/Joe's Pizza is a townie bar.

Despite being so poorly described on Google, Frickie's was good to us. Even though I bowled my worst game EVER, I had a great time. After two games of bowling, we headed to the bar for a drink or two. While there, discussion ensued about organic eating. I'm not really sure HOW this started. More than likely my husband was teasing me about my recent, insane fear of all food chemically engineered/non-organic/non-grass fed/genetically modified. Discussion of such fears led Dustin to ask...why? This lead me to discuss Food, Inc. and Supersize Me (a movie which made MOST people STOP eating McDonald's made my husband hungry). While McDonald's can be a super-sized helping of gross, what is even grosser, someone mentioned, is White Castle. (Mike is convinced that I told him White Castle is made of horse meat...I deny this.)

Now, as previously mentioned in this post, I have NEVER, EVER, EVER eaten White Castle. I have no desire to, yet I do not judge those who partake in the delicacy of Sliders. Upon learning that I had never eaten one of those nasty little burgers, my three companions made it their goal to get me to choke one down. This is how I ended up at a White Castle late on a Friday night with Sarah, Dustin, and Michael. I warn you what came next is hard to stomach.


I indignantly sat down at a table in the deserted establishment as my friends headed to the counter. They placed their orders with a woman who I'm sure was named Bertha the fact that I didn't see her name tag is irrelevant. Some people embody their names...often these names include Bubba, Bertha, and Trixie. My husband was the first to make his way to the table. He clutched his greasy brown bag. As he was unpacking his six tiny cheeseburger, Sarah and Dustin joined us at the table. Dustin had ordered EIGHT mini-burgers of grossness. Once the food was organized on the table, the frenzy began.

If you don't know my friend Sarah, let me fill you in on a little something I've observed about her. She's a normal paced eater. She's never the first one done, nor are we waiting for her to finish at the lunch table. All I knew or thought I knew about Sarah's eating habit/ability was shattered that night. With Bertha busying herself in the back, Dustin and Mike enjoying their "food" next to us, and me staring on in disbelief, Sarah inhaled FIVE White Castle cheeseburgers. Mike and Dustin had five each as well, but honestly, their consumption wasn't nearly as impressive or disturbing.

For all these reasons, that night will forever be burned into my memory for the bowling, for the fun, for the disgusting food, and for the fact that I stood by principles and refused to eat a cheeseburger.