Pretty much all day, I've been thinking about Memphis.
Memphis, Memphis, Memphis.
It's almost gotten to the point that I've had to admonish myself to "get it together, man" and snap out of it. But I can't. I seriously have Memphis entrenched in my being today. And as much as I'd like to say I'm referring to the glorious southern city that I've visited numerous times, including with my beautiful wife on a escape to Graceland roughly 11 years ago to the day, I'm not talking about the home of Elvis, or that of B.B. King. Not the land of Sun Studio or Beale Street. Not Martin Luther King. Not the Gibson Guitar factory. Not The Peabody, either.
I'm referring to the Memphis BBQ Six Dollar Burger at Carl's Jr. Great balls of fire, do I ever want this sandwich in my mouth right now. I mean, I want to stuff this bad boy, juicy goosey, souped-up mountain of goodness into my food tunnel bite by delicious bite. And then maybe do it all over again.
It's been that way since last night when I saw a commercial on TV for this skyscraper of gorgeous grub, although I have to admit the ad was a bit on the racy, questionable side, unless you don't consider soft porn-quality TV ads that play during prime time hours questionable. Hey, I accepted long ago that companies like to use beautiful women to pitch and sell their goods. But Carl's Jr.? It pushed the boundaries a bit but using girls who looked barely able to tie their own shoes engaging in cheeseburger eating rituals with one another that I'm pretty sure never really happen at backyard picnic. At least not the gathering I've attended. But I digress. Back to the sandwich.
We're talking pulled pork combined with a cheeseburger combined with onion crisps and all of it topped with BBQ sauce. Why have I not thought of this before? Why have I deprived myself of this for so long. All those years I could have been putting this monstrosity together in my own kitchen, only to settle for toast or microwave burr
So, after a bit of investigative work and several solid leads from my man Daryl as to where I can acquire this edible beauty, I pinpointed a location roughly 37 miles from my home. There, I can lay down some greenbacks in exchange for this monster.
So, what's stopping me? One, today I weighed myself after lunch and to my great delight, saw three digits staring back that amounted to a weight that I'm more than thrilled to have dropped to. A weight that pretty much equals the one I was at when I graduated high school. I'm not sure I want to set myself back with three or four months of flipping running mile after mile by devouring this testament to meat. Second, this triple stacker of a sandwich packs a whopping 1,000 calories (500 being from fat) and enough sodium to melt a glacier. I'm semi-serious when I say that might kill me with my bib on.
Still, I'm a firm believer that you only live once, and partaking in life means partaking in joy, and I'm pretty damn sure partaking in the Memphis BBQ Six Dollar Burger would give me a great, great, great amount of joy. I'm also quite certain that just thinking about this towering achievement has brought a positive glow to my being today. Even if I don't oblige, I'm a better man for just letting my eyes take in this heavenly creature. I somehow feel stuffed without having taken one bite.
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