John had heard about the Heart Attack Grill before the trip. So when we arrived in Phoenix, Arizona it was near the top of our list. I was ambivalent, especially after having seen the website. I’m as big a fan of greasy, fried foods as the next person, but there was something about the way that the site reveled in jokes about obesity and heart problems that rubbed me the wrong way.

By the time we got inside the restaurant, I was more than ambivalent—I was creeped out. The restaurant’s owner, “Dr. Jon” (Dr. Jon, on the restaurant’s media page, calls himself a “non [American Medical Association] recognized physician.” I guess that by those standards I could probably call myself a physician too.) stretched the whole hospital theme about as far as it could go. Not only is the inside of the place sterile white and the waitresses in skimpy nurse outfits (see photo), but they make you wear wristbands and hospital gowns while you eat. The mannequins, posed in their own skimpy nurse outfits in the corners, were an especially unsettling touch. The skeeviest detail of all: strategically placed mirrors behind and underneath the countertops, so you could check out your waitress’s ass without her noticing.

The burgers were pretty good, but the overall experience was just morbid. But Dr. Jon isn’t entirely to blame; as we could see from watching the aggressively self-promoting video montages broadcasted into all four corners of the restaurant, the network news had a peculiar fascination with this establishment. And why not? It’s a particularly extreme distortion of exactly what FOX News (which seems to have a particular adoration for the Grill) traffics in on a daily basis: the church of mindless consumption and the preemptive mockery of things like prudence and long-term planning.

When we got the check, our server (right) asked us if we wanted a sexy nurse photo op, one of the big selling points for the grill. We demurred, but she insisted, again, as we were on our way out. I’m not exactly sure why. This time we went for it, me reasoning that at the very least I’d have a visual aid to accompany this post. But although it’s one of the major draws for the grill, I don’t think the nurse thing was really doing it for any of us on the trip. Our server was clearly a pro when it came to flirtatious banter, but never once was I not acutely aware of what was being sold to me. We were taking communion in a temple to the almighty heart attack.