Chuck wanted a burger. The last good one I had was at the Emerald Inn and that was too far away. I wasn’t hungry when I walked in, but the photo of a juicy burger and the TV memory of those slobs scarfing down their burgers while desiring solitude made me hungry enough to try the food.
It was a mistake – it was bad. I’d never eaten at a Carl’s Jr. and most likely will not again. This is Chuck’s uneaten part of a dried out Six Dollar Western Bacon Burger.
Maybe Kobayashi’s water helped his hot dogs go down, but all the free Carl’s Jr. refills in the world wouldn’t have helped this burger.
