I spent my birthday in the glorious isolation of my own car because I am a selfish bastard who prefers the company of a fictional apocalypse over human interaction.

I was headed to O’Fallon for a Royal Caribbean training session and the timing was a perfect alignment of a road trip and the release of the eighth book in the Dungeon Crawler Carl series, A Parade of Horribles. I have been looking forward to this release for months and I wanted to be alone to burn through as much of that 20 hour masterpiece as I possibly could without interruption. It is not that I hate people, but I definitely like being alone with a world class book more than I like making small talk during a long drive.

Another thing that made me excited for this trip was the fact that I passed a Jack in the Box in Warrenton that I fully planned on hitting on the way back to Jefferson City.

Most people look at me in confusion when I get overly excited about this particular fast-food joint but they do not have the same history with it that I do. It is a tragedy that the Jefferson City location closed during the pandemic and was replaced by a Raising Cane’s.

Cane’s is a monochrome wasteland of unseasoned poultry that serves chicken so bland it makes wet cardboard look like a gourmet delicacy. The only thing of value in that entire building is the sauce, the rest of the establishment is a garbage fire that should not exist.

Getting to hit a Jack in the Box is a mandatory part of any road-trip, if in any way possible, because it is the one food related place besides Red Lobster that connects me to my mom. Growing up in Southeast Missouri meant those places were rare so mom was always happy when she could get her hands on cheap-ass two tacos or crab legs. My mom was a simple woman, she is gone now and those memories always hit me the second I smell a bag of those glorious, horrific, gringo tacos. I ordered multiple sets of the Two Tacos without lettuce because I love them and getting them reminds me of her favorite order even if I have the good sense to strip the greenery off.

No matter what else I get at Jack, there must always be a set of these tacos in the bag. These things are a legitimate experience because the meat is encased in a shell that has been deep fried until it reaches the structural integrity of a ceramic tile. They are salty and oily and exactly what a simple, smile and maybe tear up a little in your car, birthday meal should be when you get to be alone with your thoughts.

I also snagged an order of mini tacos which provide a tiny flavor bomb for mindless consumption while navigating the highway. They are tiny fried pockets of joy that help pass the miles while the world falls apart in my speakers.

I also grabbed some churros which were damn good for a drive thru. They were a bit doughier than the traditional ones I have had in the past but they were covered in enough cinnamon sugar to satisfy a birthday craving. I finished the entire haul while losing myself in the story. It was a perfect slice of life spent in total isolation.

There has always been an urban legend that Jack in the Box used kangaroo meat in the past and I genuinely hope it was true because I want an exotic palate and it expands the experiences of a lot of people who aren’t adventurous eaters.

If anyone has a legitimate source for real kangaroo meat then I am putting out a formal bounty right now. I will trade real American dollars for a kangaroo steak that I can throw on my grill to see how it handles the flames, preferably below market price because I my budget is so low that I am not even ballin’, what is a step below ballin’?

Oh… that much?

What is like three steps below ballin’?

Jack in the Box is a mandatory stop every time I can make it work on a trip and I am either alone or I can talk whoever I am with into Jack in the Box, another reason I like to travel alone. It is a 10 out of 10 for me, not necessarily for the flavor, although I like it, but because of the personal history and the fact that it is a solid alternative to the unseasoned garbage at Cane’s.

Keep your bland chicken fingers and give me the deep fried tacos.