The “BK Pipe Straw is about three times larger than the average straw. It’s blue. And it allows one to intake huge quantities of shake with only slightly more effort.
Well, as you might imagine, I had to try it.
“Can I take your order?” the drive-thru speaker asked.
“I would like the chicken strip salad and a … no, you know what? Forget the salad. I just want an Oreo shake. And I want to eat it with that blue pipe.”
“Small or medium?” the lady asked.
Let me pause the story here. Are you aware this shake comes in only small and medium sizes? Fast food places always offer at least three size options. Couldn’t I get the shake in “large,” “king” or “gigantico?”
I was confused and didn’t know how to answer the woman’s question.
“Hello?” she called.
I instinctively answered, “Large.”
“Sir, it only comes in small or medium.”
“Is the medium really large and you’re just calling it ‘medium?’” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
“Did you hear my question?” I asked the speaker.
“Yes, sir, I heard you,” she said. “All I can tell you is we offer it in small and medium.”
“Well,” I said, “I guess I’ll take the medium.”
I pulled up to the next window, paid and received my shake and pipe. Then I parked to behold this new instrument of consumption.
You know how you bang a straw on a table to remove the wrapper? Well, with the pipe straw, you need to use two hands. I jabbed it on the steering wheel, and the blue tubing busted through the white paper as my car horn sounded.
I inserted the pipe straw and began taking in the Oreo shake. I was amazed. The rush of vanilla ice cream and whipped cream was almost overwhelming. I had to maintain the flow, so I just kept drinking and drinking. The blue pipe was like a mega-IV delivering a never-ending stream of goodness.
I wanted to consume everything this way. I imagined going to Lowe’s and buying a piece of metal tubing with which I could vacuum pastas, hamburgers and cereal. My days of chewing would be done - I’d found a direct connection to the stomach.
But then I returned to reality because it had been a while since I had inhaled oxygen. I needed to stop sucking the shake and take a breath. But when I cut off the shake flow, the suction reversed and trapped my lips. The tube straw was beginning to tug at my face, and the strain made me panic. I didn’t want to die like this. I knew what the newspaper headline would be.
“Man Found Dead in BK Pipe Straw”
As my face began to detach, I finally pulled away. “I Survived the BK Pipe Straw and All I Got Was This Lousy Stomach Ache.”
I was angry at Burger King and its invention. But then I began to long for more shake. I decided drinking more slowly would prevent another incident. So I slowed the process.
Then something stunning happened. One half of an Oreo cookie travelled through the pipe and into my mouth. I had just sucked a cookie through a straw with very little effort. I was ashamed of myself.
I began missing the old days, when a chunk of something would clog a straw. What were we becoming as a society? A straw should not deliver food that requires chewing.
I trashed the shake and pipe straw and drove home. That night, I had nightmares about tumbling into a milky abyss via a blue tunnel. The king from the Burger King commercials was laughing as I fell.
I awoke and went to the kitchen, rummaging for something that might ease my mind. I slept easily the rest of the night as I embraced a Scooby Doo bendy straw.