Hamburgers at Seven O'Clock

- - - - - - - -

It was seven o'clock on a hot, humid summer morning, and I wanted a hamburger. I was sure there were other things I could have, but the craving for a hamburger just kind of sprung up on me. I had been awake all night, drinking Coke and writing pointless short stories for my own amusement, so my mind probably thought it was later than it really was. But none of that changed the fact that it was seven in the morning, and I still wanted a hamburger.

Now, if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my hamburgers. They are excellent. They are divine. Everyone says so. But there was just one little problem...I really didn't feel like cooking. I sighed. This was turning out much more difficult that I expected. Why couldn't I just sleep at normal hours, like normal people (there was a simple answer to that - I wasn't normal - but I decided to ignore it.)? Maybe then, I wouldn't want a hamburger.

Realizing there was no way out of this, I resigned myself to digging in the fridge for the hamburger meat. There was plenty; I could have made fifty hamburgers if that's what I desired. But one was enough for me.

I pressed the meat and put it in the pan. After I washed my hands, I put another Coke in the freezer, hoping it would be ice cold by the time my hamburger was done (I can't drink Coke unless it is to the freezing point). I flipped the burger idly several times, looking at the T.V. every now and then. No cartoons were on, just the news. I sighed. Not having cable was really a drag.

After a while, I looked at my hamburger. Funny. For all the times I had flipped it, it didn't seem to be cooking...I stole a glance at the stove controls. Of course.

I had forgotten to turn on the pan. Silly me.

Well, I thought, this adds another good ten minutes onto my hamburger- cooking time. I could be writing more pointless stories and posting them on pointless, but still wonderfully amusing sites. Everyone loves pointless stories, I decided as I flipped the now-browning burger. Maybe I should write one about this.

When the hamburger was finally done, I sighed in happiness. Put a slice of cheese on it, place it between bread, put it on a plate, grab the Coke...

There's nothing quite like hamburgers at seven o'clock in the morning.

- - - - - - - -