But, really. It's 85 degrees outside at 6 p.m. in April. I have to do it. Someone has to do it. Somebody has to sit on the patio with a juicy burger and an ice cold beer. Might as well be me.
I want to barbecue, but I've been having a rough couple of weeks, and today my body finally gives out. I'm tired. I am incredibly, heavily tired. So, I order a burger from the place up the street. The burger is perfect: medium rare, smothered in cheese with a giant mega-ring of red onion slapped on top.
The beer is nearly perfect: a little light but icy cold and ridiculously refreshing. I'm not sure if it tastes good because it's so hot out or because I'm so exhausted. Perhaps both.
Sure, it may be only Tuesday evening, but that's okay. It's after 5 p.m. somewhere, right? And, like I said, someone has to step up to the plate; might as well be me.
