So I found myself back at the Five Napkin Burger, a different location, but same pricey meats. This time I was with my gal pal's fadda, step-mudda and two bruddas, and being the free-loading chap that I am, I accompanied them to dinner. After some scintillating pre-dinner conversation about all things Bieber (I was steering the conversation, not the 14 or 12 year old boys), I ordered the bacon cheeseburger, medium. I know I said 'medium,' because I always say 'medium.' It's like my catch-phrase. The chap opposite myself--not a fan of the Bieber--also ordered a bacon cheeseburger, well done. After the waitress left I reprimanded the young lad for ordering charred meat and exhorted him to in the future get a little pink in his meat.
When the burger came I did what I always do: I woofed that sucker down. The whole family stopped at stared at me like I was some sort of animal, I should have felt more awkward, but I didn't. Woofin' burgers is just how I roll. Only halfway through the burger I realized that there was a certain suckness to the burger, it was_dun dun dun!_well done. gasp! The boy, the Bieber hatin' boy, had my medium burger. It looked all pink and succulent and juicy; mine was a hot turd between two buns. The only logical explanation is that the waitress got me confused with a 14 year old, which I guess makes much sense because I am so boyishly handsome.
The meat was overcooked and dry. The bacon and cheese were fine, as was the bread, but the burger had no soul. It was a heathen burger. And if I wasn't four beers in I wager I could have eaten the entire burger without the aid of a single napkin. There's not much else to say about my experience, except for that I hope that kid knows the great service I done did him.
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