Great American Bagel

People have tried to make burning the flag a crime. But I think it’s a much greater travesty to associate the word «American» with this bagel. I worry about a foreigner coming to America for the first time and going, «America — it is a bagel that tastes like sand and sits in your stomach like a dead piece of yeast. By God, the terrorists are right.»
Admittedly, eating at the airport is like getting food in prison; you don’t expect much, and you’re in no position to avoid getting ripped off. But even by those standards, the Great American Bagel provides you with a wait that takes too long, with bagels that once toasted have all the taste and consistency of scraped-​off wallpaper paste, topped with bacon that’s one wrinkled, stringy chunk like an old scab and is so salty that you might think the pig had died from being drowned in the Great Salt Lake.
It’s BACON. When you screw up bacon, you revoke your license to cook.
And yet, for all of that, this review is a weird recommendation; it’s better than the Burger King next door. Which is to say that the Burger King is the processed hell in which all bad foodies are condemned for all eternity if they don’t follow the tenets of Alton Brown.
In the meantime, if you’re stuck in the airport, try prying off the bottom of your shoe and eating it. At least that way you might get something organic.