My First Burger
November 3, 2017
Let me just start off by saying that I am possibly the pickiest eater any person has ever met in their life. Trying to get me to eat different types of food may prove as challenging as trying to put lipstick on a crocodile. I find traditional foods, which many people consider delicious, unappetizing. These foods include carrots, pork, salads, sloppy joes, and worst of all, hamburgers.
Now, I already know what some of you are thinking. “How could you not like hamburgers?!” I know people are entitled to their own opinion, but likewise, I am entitled to mine. The only way I see that others can relate to my thoughts on the subject is if they give me the chance to explain my reasons of why I am opposed to this iconic American delicacy.
My first time trying a hamburger was when my family and I decided to go to Kansas City to do a little bit of shopping. In order to save some time to hit up some extra stores, we skipped lunch, and this was my first mistake. After six hours of frantic shopping, we were all tired and hungry. The only restaurant that was in our general area was one that specialized in hamburgers.
I figured that if this place’s specialty was making burgers than they must be the best at burger making. I had never tried a burger before and it was one of the foods on my list that I actually wanted to try. It seemed only logical that I try one while I was hungry enough to devote myself to it, and that was my second mistake.
I walked up to the counter, and to my parents’ surprise and sudden delight, I ordered a hamburger. My parents took much interest in my plan to try a new food for it was seldom to never that I am ever adventurous enough to try something out of my comfort zone. I only ordered a burger patty on a bun because it seemed like a good start, plus it was right at the border-of-tolerance for me.
AS SOON AS I obtained my burger I quickly took some things into account. This burger was absolutely massive and, despite not having the fixings, looked packed with flavor. I picked it up rather awkwardly and held it closer for further examination. I suddenly started to doubt my thoughts about rushing to try this new food. Then some of my other senses started to chip in like a grand jury deciding if this sandwich was worthy enough to be consumed.
The smell was slightly unappealing to me. It smelled like a cow that had caught fire, and the image that this gave me was suddenly repulsive. I thought of a gentle cow grazing out in a meadow, and then a giant burger press descending upon it from above leaving nothing but a giant patty where it once stood. By now this burger was sounding less and less desirable to me.
I was between a rock and a hard place now. I no longer had the courage to try this burger, but my parents were so proud to see me branch out and try new things that I could not seem to put it down. I realized that the burger was too big to take a nibble out of and call it good, so if I decided to go through with this, I would have to take a fairly big bite.
It was with the thought of my parents’ pride and massive amounts of will power that I was able to lift the burger to my mouth, hesitate, and then take a bite. It wasn’t all that bad, but also not that good. My mind was willing to swallow, however, my body was not too anxious to comply. After about fifteen seconds of chewing and internal conflict with my taste buds, I was finally able to swallow the bite and pushed the rest away toward the table without touching it for the rest of the meal.
My thoughts about a burger are nothing to write home about. It was not all that bad actually; I mean, I lived to tell the tale after all! I shall never forget that day, for it was the day I had decided to make a change in my eating habits; but unfortunately my first hamburger was also my last!
