Once upon a time there was a young man that wanted to experience new things. A newcomer to Houston, he had never had a buffalo burger. Right out of high school, he was feeling daring; so one day he decided to try out the local's secret burger joint, Bubba's.
To say that Bubba's was different was an understatement; he had never eaten in a shack under a highway for starters. The overtly Texan decor overwhelmed him at first, but he learned to appreciate it in time. But it was when he got to the counter that he uttered the words that would set events in motion that would change his life forever. In his brazenness, he ordered a double buffalo burger with cheese and a white bun, to top it off, he tried one of the several microbrew sodas they offered. So far it seemed, this place was pretty much like your typical burger joint, except a little quirkier. He couldn't have been more wrong.
What the young man did not know was that Bubba's has discovered the way to transform crack cocaine into buffalo burger patties. All it took was one bite to get the unsuspecting young man hooked. A terrible addiction that would consume his life was born. Soon, this young man's life revolved around his addiction, he could only achieve happiness while consuming the burgers: the meat was so flavorful, the buns so perfectly grilled, crisp, and buttery, the smoked jalapenos so satisfactory. He could only stand by and watch his life savings drain into the black hole that is Bubba's Burger shack. Moody and angry when denied Bubba's, the man lost all his friends, only finding solace by diving deeper into his addiction. When he tried to shake off his addiction and try other burger places, the comparative shortcomings of the other burgers served only to further root his need for Bubba's.
Sadly, this young man is me. I have become a victim of Bubba's glorious burgers. They say that the first step to recovering is admitting you have a problem, well I do; but I embrace it. Let's call me a functioning Bubbaholic.
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