“Single cheeseburger, anyone? Just kidding!”
What can I say? I love double cheeseburgers. They’re perfect.
Honestly, I don’t know what it is about double cheeseburgers that makes me like them so much. It might be how delicious they are, or how hearty, but I can’t say for sure.
I would eat a double cheeseburger every day of my life if my cholesterol wasn’t getting a little high, and even so I eat one on at least 50% of days. Sometimes I buy ‘em at the store, and sometimes I cook ‘em myself!
I tried a triple cheeseburger one time. Wasn’t for me. Too much meat, too much cheese (in its defense I will say that it did have the perfect amount of bun). I ended up just taking one of the patties off and giving it to my dog, Dex.
One time when I was a kid, I ate 12 double cheeseburgers in a row. All those double cheeseburgers made me sick, but it was still worth it.
I love double cheeseburgers so much that I will wait in a very long line just to get my hands on one! My record is 70 minutes (that was on the day they opened up a Shake Shack on my block), but typically I cap it at about 20 minutes, unless I don’t have to do very much that day.
Please do not offer me a turkey burger. I won’t accept. If you come at me with pulled pork, I will say “no thanks.” A hot dog? Maybe at a barbecue, if I’m hungry and the burger patties aren’t ready or we’re out of cheese or something. What can I say? I’m a double cheeseburger guy, and I don’t care who knows it!
I had the best double cheeseburger of my entire life on August 15th, 2004. I was on vacation with my wife, Julia, in Crete, and it was a perfect summer day. It was hot, but not too humid, and there was this perfect breeze that I’ll never forget. She was actually wearing one of my plaid shirts and the wind was blowing it all around her body like a cape, and her hair was blowing too, and she looked like a Goddamned superhero. My superhero. We made love on the beach that night, under the stars, and I remember thinking, as I looked into her eyes, that no one had ever loved anyone else quite so much, and I didn’t see how anyone ever could. After we were done, we ate some DELICIOUS double cheeseburgers. Nine months, to the day, from that day, my daughter was born. Nine months to the day after that was when they first found the lump in Julia’s left breast. It turned out to be Stage Four cancer. She fought it till the last second, but the odds were always stacked against her. She weighed about 90 pounds when she passed, and I remember looking at her the night before, curled up in bed. Her body chemistry wasn’t right, so she always felt too hot or too cold. She was lying on top of a sheet that was spread out below her, and it looked like a cape again. My superhero. She saved me from the darkness, but I guess she didn’t have enough strength left to save herself. I went home, ate a double cheeseburger, and wept.
A double cheeseburger is the classic American meal!
