I moved away from Brooklyn about a year ago after spending over a decade of my life in the borough. There’s a lot to miss about the city, but in my top five? My corner bodega’s breakfast sandwiches. I’m a sausage, egg and cheese gal, myself. So, when Harley Quinn’s epic misadventures in Birds of Prey kind of really start with her picking up a godsend of a sandwich (bacon, egg, and American cheese), I got it.
Slight sandwich-related spoilers for Birds of Prey ahead.
The dude behind the counter sizzles the bacon, cracks the eggs, drops that cheese on top, folds all of it onto two toasted buns and wraps it in foil insulated with that parchment paper we all know and love to rip open.
I’ve never felt more seen than when, after being interrupted before she can take a bite, Harley shoves that sandwich into her shirt so she can eat that sh*t later in the way that it deserves: wholly and without reservation.
And I’ve never been more heartbroken for Harley than her losing the sandwich in a truly awful slow-motion sequence when we’re put through the destruction of a perfect breakfast.
No wonder this movie was rated R.
Anyway, thank you for the solid bodega-breakfast-sandwich-love representation, Birds of Prey! It matters.