Long before the likes of Shake Shack, In & Out Burger, and a myriad of other hamburger hotspots that have skyrocketed to fame and foodie fortune, there was, and still is, Burger Joint.
Sequestered behind an imposing velvet curtain in the lobby of Le Parker Meridien on West 56th Street in Manhattan, Burger Joint isn't the modern, fad-du-jour eatery typically found in today's upscale hotels. On the contrary, lovers of a good-ole neighborhood dive—sans the seedy drunks and odor of stale beer—will feel right at home here.
If you enter the hotel and don't know what you're looking for, chances are you'll miss it. At first glance, I thought the short, dark corridor leading to Burger Joint led to public restrooms. The only evidence that something might be around the corner was a small burger-shaped neon sign I could barely make out from a distance.
It was only in January last year that you met with Comrade Duduzane, the number one son of our illustrious president Jacob Zuma. You weren't to know that the liberal snowflakes in our ridiculously free press would get wind of your noble venture and conspire to paint you as a rapacious, unprincipled carpetbagger from the north. It is these malcontents in the media who, when one of their kind drags herself from the swamp and announces that she's taking a job in public relations, move to stand upwind and denounce her as having crossed to the dark side.
On behalf of all South Africans apart from those who hate you, allow me to thank you for the sterling work you have done to drive a wedge between our people. I appreciate that it was not an easy assignment. In 1994 Nelson Mandela set about trying to bring black and white, rich and poor, closer together. Sadly, his example was followed by a few others in the years to come, ultimately making your job so much more difficult.