This is a story about how a week long work trip to Jackson, MS turned into two weeks, and how two weeks turned into a month, and about the events that occurred therein. Your narrator is your protagonist, but some names and and other such details have been changed for the protection of those involved. The events of the weekend of March 30-April 2 will now be retold. Poorly.

First off, I’d like to start by saying that I don’t mind being here as long as I have been, and nor do I mind staying for another week longer. Mississippi is warm and deliberate, the people are friendly, and the barbecue is slow-cooked and delicious. But not everything is so wonderfully grand. My first weekend in town I traveled up to Memphis to visit with family and friends, watch some basketball, and go bowling at 12:30 AM on a Saturday night. This coming weekend I will see my way to Oxford, MS for Ole Miss’ annual Red/Blue weekend, where much fun is sure to be had as well. Last weekend, however, much fun was not had at all, and at the heart of the story which I’m about to tell explaining why, lies a big, juicy seventy-five dollar cheeseburger.

For you see, ladies and gentleman, when you order a hamburger at a particular eatery in Ridgeland, MS, an eatery which I am too much of a gentleman myself to accuse by name here (Alumni House), it is imperative that you order such a delicious burger WELL DONE. Oh, and what a delicious burger it will be, with bleu cheese and bacon, and on the most delectable bun you’ve ever let cross your lips and teeth. This is in fact no ordinary burger. This burger, as truly mouth-watering as it is, can only be justly enjoyed if chased by the antibiotics and other sundry prescription drugs necessary to stave off the food borne parasites that, while not listed on the menu, are definitely a key ingredient in this burger’s creation.

The effects of this burger on one’s taste buds will last for days, as evidenced by it’s call to it’s consumer from their own stomach. “Remember me, I’m still down here”, shouts burger to human. A jealous burger it is as well, not wanting it’s unfortunate enjoyment to be equaled ever again. “You will subsist on a diet of chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers, and Sprite forevermore”, roars the burger from it’s pit, once again reminding you how grand a burger it is, and how the bond that you have made with it will not be severed easily.

And on a glorious Sunday morning, beautifully created by our maker himself, as the last remnants of your devil burger release you from their steely grip, and you total the expenses from the meal and it’s fall out, you view the total costs brought to you by doctors, and pills, and crackers, and meals, and you think to yourself, “So that’s how a cheeseburger ends up costing $75.”

But you also think to yourself, “I’d do it again. For that burger, it was worth it.”