Holy Mother! I’m always hungry. Imagine the money we could save if we didn’t have to eat! I see the twenties disappearing from my blue leather wallet daily. I love to eat, hello, but God this city is a pricey plate.
There is one place were paying a fraction more can make all the difference, however. They call themselves the Burger Priest. Ever hear of them? If not, you are in for an experience! I entered not knowing what to expect. Thump thump thump thump thump thump!!! You hearing me here? Boom boom boom thump thump!!! Not your Grandparents burger shack!
Wonderfully unruly! No indoor voice here! “CAN I GET A CHEESEBURGER?” I exclaim! Aw damn then I see the cash only sign! She pointed at the ATM beside the till. Oh crap. Fee me to an inch of death. $2.50 I was charged by that damn machine. I would have kicked it but I didn’t want to scuff my new Rockports I had picked up only a week ago!
I’m thrown right into the middle of that infamous scene when Meg Ryan is in the grocery store and a cashier behind the counter declares, “This is a cash only line!” Poor Meg! Poor me! “All I have is a dollar. Can you make an exception and take my credit card?” (You’ve got Mail) Thank God my cashier was a total sweetheart.
Oh bother!! ROCK OF AGES… MACARONI>>>> Def Leopard blasting on the sound system! Is it macaroni? Anyway. Sure I paid the $2.50 for my hard earned twenty but was still hopeful the reward of a fresh all Canadian beef treat would make this robust insanity well worth it. She said something to me and handed me a number, 33. I had created a bit of a back log trying to get some cash.
I finally paid and took a seat and still couldn’t believe the rumble. This was just as wild as getting your hair cut at that landmark on Yonge Street. Oh crap what’s it called? “House of Lords”. Man that place makes me feel like I’m going to have a seizure. When I first moved to Toronto I thought it so cool to go there I think the stylists were all high on something. Don’t quote me, I can’t be sure! Good times!
Moments later I realized I had missed my number through all the commotion. I pressed my way through the wall of worshippers. There was my burger. Wow it’s crazy in here I mentioned. The girl from behind the till smiled and said something. I thought she is very nice and if I could hear her better she might be saying something like enjoy your burger or your sins are forgiven!
And then, oh my God, I bit into my cheeseburger. Orgasmic mouth watering crazy delicious comfort that seemed to take away all the noise that little shop could produce. I felt like that lady in that gardening commercial who is planting in her garden. The butterflies are all around and the sun is a perfect glow and the music is soft and airy. Then you find out she is really getting dumped on with torrential down poor. That was me! I was in the sun. The Burger Priest had come out and slapped me with a scents of forgiveness for being such a sinner about the whole experience. I was transformed. With each bite of that absolutely delicious sandwich I knew I would never look at burgers the same. I didn’t even care that I had slopped some on my own pants. Aw nothing better than an irreverent meat!
The Burger Priest
4 kisses out of 5