No, not THAT Krystal!

First lets get a couple of definitions out of the way. The name of the place is Krystal. Singular noun. The burgers are called Krystals. Plural noun. I guess one burger is also a "Krystal" but that confuses things, so lets forget about that. Besides, who can eat just one Krystal? Now I may be the only person on Earth who cares about using the proper name for the proper thing. I tell people I eat Krystals. I tell people I eat at Krystal. I eat Krystals at Krystal. Seems easy enough right? Well I thought so, too. Recently I happened to be having dinner with a group of people. Several of them I have known for years. Someone among the group asked me about the whole Krystal thing, and I began to tell them about the Square Off and other recent events. Well a friend of one of my friends arrived a little late and missed the beginning of the conversation. They sat down and tuned in. They heard my open and honest discussion of my love of Krystal. I told of how I have Krystal every week and on some occasions two or even three times a week. After a long silence, the person then asked what a Krystal was. Now I get this question a lot from people who arent from around here, so it's not a completely uncommon question.So I explained about the tasty burgers and the "small hot steamed square" burgers I love so much. Again after a long pause, then person then said "Thank goodness. I thought you were talking about Crystal Meth." Looking back on it, I can see how my entire conversation could be completely misunderstood. I like to think I am enough of a "clean cut" guy that no one would ever assume anything about me and drugs, but given my blunt details of my persuit of Krystals, I suppose the drug free assumptions go right out the window. So as much as it bothers me I may have to stop calling the place "Krystal" (which is the proper name) and start calling it "Krystals" just so I don't wind up in rehab or detox. Yes, I know there are some out there who would try to make the point that I *am* a "Krystal Addict." Once again I feel those sorts of accusations come out of jealousy. I look forward to the steamy goodness every week, and they're forced to eat whatever the king or the clown shoves out the drive through window at them. As I always say, though, the cure for jealousy is a chili cheese pup!