I’ll never forget the first time I went to the one and only Burger King of Evanston. I was a prospie, visiting the campus for “Preview NU” (now apparently called Wildcat Days?), and my host took me to the BK Lounge to preview the real NU.
It was April 16, 2007. Well, I guess technically it was April 17, 2007, as our journey occurred at around 2:30 a.m.
Most of my trips to BK have taken place after midnight, of course. But in my time at Northwestern, I haven’t limited myself to drunken post-Keg visits. Over the past four years, I have been a reliable BK customer, offering my business dozens of times, at all hours of the day.
Until now. I was recently betrayed by the restaurant I love.
It was 4:10 a.m., and I was hungry. We’d just finished an especially late night at the paper (damn late event stories), and a couple other editors and I decided to drown our sorrows with some nuggets and a Buck Double at Ol’ Reliable.
As I walked into the eatery, my senses were overwhelmed. You know, that mouthwatering BK smell, the one that screams of mysterious joy and deliciousness. I turned to the cash register, happy to be alive.
“I’m sorry,” said the suddenly-not-so-friendly man behind the counter. “We’re closed.”
“Cl – closed?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” the man answered.
I stopped, unable to move. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. BK never closes. That’s common knowledge, engrained in the memory of all associated with NU. But I was faced with the cruel reality, and I couldn’t do anything about it.
After a moment of paralysis, I shrugged, turned around and left, shaking my head. Everything I’d known about the world, it seemed, was wrong.
Listen, BK food sucks. Everybody knows it. On a good day, the smell reminds you of a festering corpse that has defecated on itself. After eating, you feel like you need an immediate shower to prevent the disgusting stench from settling itself permanently on your body. But it’s too late. The somewhat-edible-substance has already possessed your body, and you will soon feel ill.
We tolerate this “food” because it is the only show in town after a soon-forgotten night. For BK to abandon its lone feature – being open – leaves it with nothing to offer.
I understand that BK’s daily half-hour closure between 4 a.m. and 4:30 a.m. gives them the opportunity to clean the grills and wash the floors. But seriously, nobody expects cleanliness from BK.
Please stay true to your word, BK, and stay open 24 hours a day.
Editor in Chief Brian Rosenthal is a Medill senior. He can be reached at [email protected].
