The following post is influenced by what I witnessed last night on my way home.
It’s written from the perspective of a drunk-out-of-his-mind 20-something. (Which is honestly not me. I’m not allowed to drink.)
I just can’t help myself: the dirty burger is calling me. “Hey,” it seems to say, with its big wide mouth, sitting there next to the curb, a fag right next to it, “eat me, bitch, eat me”.
It knows I want it.
“I can’t eat you…you’re a dirty…rotten burger,” I tell it. “A dirty stinker of a burger…you’ve probably been there all night…I can’t…I’m sorry.”
Yes, I am so drunk I am apologizing to a burger.
And this is when the dirty burger really turns it on. The charm, I mean. At 1am in the morning, after ten pints — I think it was ten pints… — the dirty burger is like some irresistible lip-stick woman in a dress that’s been looking at me from the corner of the night-club all night, and now, getting closer, this is way out of my control. I am, and always was going to be, at its mercy.
“Just one bite,” the dirty rotten burger whispers: I notice that half the burger has been eaten, and in my mind I see an image of the sexy lady’s head with the back part eaten…the brains clawed away.
“But you know it won’t be just one bite,” I say, now with my hands on my hips in an attempt to assert some authority. Now, I am just inches away from grabbing it up and it knows it. In the same way that terrorized the childen and adults in Stephen King’s It, it’s feeding off my deep desire for dirty burgers.
The filth of it!
And now I’m eating it. People are walking by me – I think they are people, I’m too drunk to tell – and I’m holding it close so that even though I’m wasted, I’ll have a fighting chance if any other pisshead wants to have a go at taking it off me.
The taste? It’s beef and it’s alcohol and it’s…vomit. I think the person who discarded this did so for a very good reason. But I don’t give a shit.
“And now I’ve got you, you filth maiden”, the dirty burger says, from down inside me.
And I say “no, I’ve got you,” and then I swallow the last of it down. “You bitch. You get me every time, don’t you?”