I had the most interesting ride home from work, a ride I might comment is exceptionally boring most nights.

I had within my tummy a rumble of epic proportions. That rumble could only be satiated by extreme measures, and so, with all proper criteria fulfilled (and perhaps many secondaries checked off) I headed to Wendy's for a tasty Baconator. I've been the ignorant fool these past weeks, shoving off the sweet aroma of bacon, cheese, and beef for my normal spicy chicken, but tonight would be my night.

Apparently it was also 12 other people's nights...

Alas, I stayed in line for what seemed like ages and was miraculously saved from my daydreaming by none other than the cutest most active cat I believe I have ever seen. Cutest because of course it was, and active in the fact that the rumbling of my Jeep Grand Cherokee kept it hopping about on the hood in a not-so-menacing manner.

At that very moment I made a pact with this foolishly feisty feline and promised a suitable chunk of my Baconator in exchange for the entertainment provided. Unfortunately, the kitty did not want any of my sandwich, an act that at the very moment I thought foolish, but I would later recant those thoughts.

I pulled forward and exchanged my payment for my lovely new sandwich and pulled away from the drive thru. I watched the kitten scurry into nearby bushes, my headlights illuminating her silky kitty eyes. I waved a goodbye, a notion that meant more to me than the cat I just blinded.

I wolfed down my fries (its what I do) and sipped at my Root Beer until finally I unwrapped the Baconator from its not-quite-foil wrapping. I bit into it...

...and immediately was introduced...no, overcome...no, a stronger word...

...assaulted!

Yes, I was immediately assaulted with the tasty combination of processed American cheese and the beef oh the beef...and the bacon! Yes the bacon too! And this goopy shit.

Wait.

What is this? My mind reeled, for I had not ordered this Baconator with mayo, and so mayo it was not. Was this a 'secret sauce', I asked myself, intent on discovering the culprit's name. I snapped back from my bacony reverie to discover that it was in fact ketchup.

Yes, they put Ketchup on BACON.

Only in this country...

I quickly turned into the closest parking lot I could find in an attempt to use what few napkins were given to me (apparently there's a shortage of napkin plants) to wipe the offending goopy shit off my lovely bacon.

Followed close behind was none other than a shield on the side, lights on the top, full fledged West Chester Police SUV.

Intent on my eradication of all things red and unbacony I was unaware of the good Officer's presence until he notified me he was there, partly due to standing next to my vehicle, and partly due to tapping on the window with a maglight.

Upon allowing the window its downward motion I inquired as to his purpose, in which he responded with inquiring as to mine. As this is most baffling at times, it was at this point that I threw most sense out the window and notified the Officer of the nonexistence of any and all emergency related scenarios...

Unless of course he really REALLY likes Baconators.

I informed him of the offending goopy shit, of which his response of "Ugh" was justly rewarded with a chuckle and accepting nod from me. Wishing me a good night the officer reentered his pristine justice machine and rode off into the deep dark nothing looking for other possible evildoers to baffle.

Sadly my valiant efforts to save my Baconator from the infectious spread of ketchup ended in torn bun, and somehow more ketchup. I believe it multiplies when attacked.