Burger King is my spirit animal

But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Growing up, I was pretty sure I was part wolf. I mean, everything about them was so cool, from the howl to the pack mentality and even how they waited until dark to hunt their prey.

Damn, wolves are cool.

But no. I was wrong about my spirit animal. I’m kind of a loner.

Not wolves.

I hit my teen years and realized I was more owl than the wolf. I mean, owls are wicked cool too. Ever seen them claws? And they’re smart as hell and love books.

I love books.

I must be part owl…right?

Well.

No.

Not quite.

The reason is, I joined the Army later on, and owls just weren’t gonna cut it. I mean, I’m learning how to be a soldier, carry an M-16, and all that Army stuff so what I really am is a lion.

Yeah.

A lion. Plus, I am a Leo, so it makes sense.

Grrrrrrr…..(that sounds more like a tiger than a lion, I know)

But I wasn’t part lion either.

Niet.

See, now I’m (kinda) all grown up, and man, am I soooo glad I never got a spirit animal tattoo. Hell, I’d have Noah’s ark inked across my arms and back by this point.

So in my quest to figure out my spirit animal, I realized that it isn’t an animal at all.

It’s bigger.

Much bigger.

But lemme explain.

I found myself in Scandinavia. You know. Norway, Sweden, and Finland part of the world. Really immersed myself into the culture of the Nordic folks. Ate their food, hung out at their bars, toured their countryside, etc… etc.…

Now before you blurt out that my spirit animal is a polar bear or a puffin, lemme just stop you there.

It isn’t.

You see, there’s this Burger King in Finland where you don’t talk. Seriously. You order via an app, park your car, the Burger King employee delivers your whopper…and all without saying a word. Silence. No talking at all.

Burgers without the banter. WTH?

Then, of course, came the music festival. You ever go to one of these and then have to wait like thirty minutes in a dang line just to get a drink?

Not here.

You see, they have “professional queue’ers” here. (Queue is how they say “line” up in Viking land). That’s no typo. You literally never have to wait in a queue (line) because there’s a professional who will stand in line to get your booze, so you don’t miss any of the music.

Ok, wait.

Banter…

Burgers…

Booze…

So what the heck is your spirit animal then Ricky-boy? I mean, it ain’t a polar bear, wolf, owl, nor puffin.

So please. I’m dying to know.

Finland.

My spirit animal is a country.

So hold up a sec Rick…are you saying your spirit animal is a country because of banter, burgers, and booze?

Hell yeah, I am.

No shark or wolf or honey badger for this homie; my spirit animal is fuggin Finland baby, so in a sense, my spirit animal is way more kick-ass than yours.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

If you can find or know of a cooler spirit animal then by all means, hit me up. Just be sure to do it in silence. And bring burgers and booze.

that nurse who writes a lot,

Rick “having it my way” Martinez

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