you dirty rat you...

…speaking of new restaurant crazes (for my sake, let’s just pretend I have been, it’ll save you the pre-article fluff), I found a new one at eateries around the country (or at least the country that I’ve traveled, which is a measly Southern New Jersey and Northeastern Pennsylvania… God grant me a trip to the desert for no other reason that to see something else). This trend is like our politicians, advertisers, parents, and newspapers; lies wrapped in authority, deceit cloaked in truth; abundance concealing emptiness. This mockery of justice and truth lies between me any my burger, and its name is simple: the Red Ketchup Bottle.

If you’ll allow me to speak out of turn, some a-hole really messed up my meal just so his company can look efficient. It’s one thing to have squeeze bottles out to increase the control of the consumer, because we all know that those glass bottles were a bunch of crap waiting to happen. No one had the patience for such a task, and those without it would have to utilize unsanitary means to obtain ketchup (or catsup, jerk) from the classic “butter knife up the bottle” to the “suck and spit” method which is more popular for siphoning gasoline. The ketchup impatience moved into the realm of jelly for me, when I discovered the squeezable Smuckers (a company who we can thank for reinventing everything we knew since the turn of the century; taking our love for grilled cheese, peanut butter and jelly, and plain ol’ jelly and turning it on its ear with Uncrustables and squeezable condiments). This jelly has some air pressure issues in the midst of great invention, but it’s worth the wait for me now, as I’ve never been one for jelly before such a discovery. But jelly, like ketchup, will probably grow old enough to me that I won’t be able to tolerate the wait for it. But I digress, I was on the glass bottle in a story about squeeze bottles, right? Okay now…

The glass bottle was alright. Many settled on that “Hit the 57!” method, which proved illogical to me in my thorough knowledge of physics gained about four years ago from Dave Berret, scientist extraordinaire. Karen, a long time believer in the 57-method, would use it on occasion at restaurants. Still, more aggressive ketchuppers would find other ways to get the tomatoey taste on the food. Gregory “G-clef Jean” Kirschner developed his own method of extraction when he would break a bottle on the edge of a table and hold his food not far beneath. This would result in some fallen glass in Kirschner’s meals, but that’s what makes him tough as nails kids. What glass wouldn’t break into pieces would be used as a weapon to fight any upset customers at any particular dining establishment. If no challengers approached, he would offer the glass as a weapon against him, coaxing people into challenge. This worked once or twice and, despite the cuts, Kirschner would always come out victor.

But seriously, the ketchup. It’s not cool. I mean it. Ketchup belongs in a clear bottle, like many fluids, so people can know when more ketchup is needed. From a waiter’s point of view, a transparent bottle will let you know when you need to refill the bottle with more. The red bottle is demonic and ruthless. It dupes waiters into believing that their tables are secure and prepared. It tricks customers into thinking they’re prepared to bite into a meaty delight, but the truth quickly turns when they find that their food is here, their waiter has left, and the ketchup is near empty. If this bottle was transparent we could have a concerned waiter bring an extra or a worried waitee ask for more. We don’t have that though, do we? No, no. We have a pissed off eater and a clueless server. Damn you red bottle—you screwed the world again!

I’ve been burned by the red bottle many times already, though I can’t tell if you have. If you haven’t be careful for these bottles at such national chains like Chili’s, Abblebee’s, Friendly’s, or anything else that ends with an “S.” Just be careful, then you’ll be safe.
What I don’t understand about the red ketchup bottle is how it’s become acceptable in our dining world. It’s a lying bottle, who wants that? Do we serve water in a clear bottle?! No wait—that works only to my detriment, in any conceivable way, let’s try something else… Oh screw it—I give up. But I, being an honest man, find the red ketchup bottle to be a mockery of American justice never before seen since the fountain drink that is 90% ice. We can’t expect truth from our media, courts, authorities, or anyone if we corrupt what’s closest to our hearts: ketchup and soda. Think about it.