After losing every last dollar I had at WinStar World Casino -- and I mean every. single. dollar --…read moreall I wanted, all I needed, was the warm embrace of a good ole Whataburger. No fancy meal, no five-star consolation prize. Just a thick, juicy burger and some crispy fries to remind me that life still has something to offer. Something to hold onto. A reason to keep going.
I drove through the night, broken but hopeful, clinging to that orange-and-white beacon of salvation like a man lost at sea clinging to a life raft. The golden arches couldn't save me. Sonic wasn't going to cut it. Dairy Queen? Don't insult me. Only Whataburger -- open 24 hours, 7 days a week, a promise carved in stone and written in the hearts of Texans everywhere -- could fill the void that the Evil Black Jack Dealer left behind. That man looked me dead in the eyes and busted me on a 19. A 19! And he didn't even flinch.
But I forgave him. Because I had Whataburger to look forward to.
I could already taste it. The perfectly toasted five-inch bun. The mustard. The big, bold beef patty that slaps you back to life and says "hey, it's going to be okay, buddy." I had already mentally ordered the Whataburger #1 with cheese, large fries, and a sweet tea so sweet it could heal emotional wounds. This was my plan. This was my salvation.
And what do I find when I walk up to that counter? A shift lead -- cool as a cucumber, completely unbothered by my suffering, not a care in the world -- telling me that THIS Whataburger, THIS supposed 24/7 establishment, is closing for the night.
I'm sorry... CLOSING? For the NIGHT? At a 24/7 Whataburger??
I stood there in the parking lot for a moment, just a man alone under the vast Texas sky, the neon sign flickering above me like even it was ashamed of what just happened. I had driven past perfectly good gas station food for THIS.
I lost my money at the casino. I kept my faith in Whataburger and God. And somehow, someway, I still ended up with nothing -- except for God, who at this point is doing a lot of heavy lifting. This is not the Texas I was raised to believe in.
And let me say this for the record: I believe this Whataburger is a FRAUD. A phony. A wolf in orange-and-white clothing. Because every tried, tested, and true Whataburger -- every REAL Whataburger, built on tradition and the tears of winners and losers alike -- is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, specifically for people like me. The losers. The broken. The ones who just need a burger at 2am and ask no further questions.
We deserve better. I deserve better. And frankly, so does Texas.