So, Friday was my B'day and Dave said to pick a restaurant and we'd all go out. (The boys, D, and me) I picked Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger. It's a burger joint (obviously) and I was craving a real burger and a shake. Plus we love the way the boys play with the name whenever we pass one. We'll say, "Look, Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger." Then Davie will start, "Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger, What. Have. You. Done?", then we continue the rhymes like in the "Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear" song. It's really funny the way Davis says it and hard to convey here but it's like he's accusing the Cheeseburger of something nefarious.
OK, so we get there and order. You can order any number of delicious toppings for no extra charge and I had a "Semi-serious" size burger, med/well with lettuce, tomato, bleu cheese crumbles, and BBQ sauce and horseradish sauce on the side. Dave got a "Serious" size, medium, with jalapenos among other things. The boys split a small kids burger meal. Boring and mundane so far, right?
I'm a third of the way through this delicious, amazing burger when I see it. It's either a very small hair or (I'm hoping) an eyelash sticking out of the meat. We show the waitress, she takes it away and starts the kitchen on a new burger for me. I don't send stuff back, I really don't. I spent 5 years in the Army and it takes a lot food-wise to gross me out. I, however, can't deal with hair of any kind in my food.
This is one of those places that actually forms the patty and cooks it, so it takes, like, another 15 minutes for the new burger to show up. (Meanwhile, I'm working my way through the large order of fries and onion rings we ordered and finishing my chocolate/peanut butter/banana shake.) The burger shows up.... with jalapeno and yellow cheese. The boys (all three of 'em) are done eating and now it's just funny. I'm laughing when I point out to the waitress that this is Dave's burger (which, incidentally, they brought him the correct burger but the wrong size - mine was bigger, his was the smaller). At this point, I should've just shut my mouth, asked for a to-go box and we could've gone home. But it was my birthday, dammit! So the waitress
apologizes profusely and takes it back so they can make my burger.
Long story short (too late), I'm eating a whole other burger, at home, at 9 o'clock at nite. I couldn't breathe and had the worst heartburn and all day Saturday, I felt like shit.
Question of the day - "Can you get a hangover from food?"
My answer - "Why yes. I believe you can."
The food was great and we will be going back sometime. Just not for awhile.
Tomorrow we focus on a different kind of stupidity involving swatches and our need to ignore the obvious. Along with a great tip for frogging.
Starting to feel better,
P.S. Here's a contest for today http://kmkat.typepad.com/kmkat_and_her_kneedles/2007/04/what_buzz_wordp.html
The deadline for this contest is midnite on April 17/07
This contest was sited on a post from Stumbling Over Chaos.