I feel like a Junky stalking off in the middle of the night.

Blue 9 is closed.

No, I don't want New Amici's.  No thank you.

There are no burger places right around here.  I could go to St.Mark's?

Is Papaya Dog worth it?  Really?  Am I really going to Papaya Dog at midnight?  They didn't even cook it as rare as I wanted it to be last time.  They practically burnt it.  Where else can I get a $2.75 burger?

I walk there as if I've got voices in my head.  I'm skittish, nervous.  If there was a way a junky was supposed to feel in my head that'd be it.  Maybe I'm just projecting that onto myself because Junky was the first word that came to my head when I stepped out the door.  Probably.   I'm usually far less crazy than I like to think I am.

It's cold.  Good thing I've got my jacket.

Papaya Dog.  No, I don't want the young guy to make my burger.  It's not the young guy from last time, is it? He cooks an awful burger.  No, the old guy.  He'll probably make it better.

No, I don't want it medium rare.  I asked for it rare.  That's what I say in my head but I'm far more polite in actuality.  I understand if you have some sort of health code that won't let you make that burger for me.  I'm not going to sue you.

It's been hours since I've eaten, right?  There's nothing wrong with wanting a burger at this time of day.

Shouldn't I be sleeping?  I could've.  30 minutes ago if I did I probably wouldn't have thought of a burger.

You're cooking it too long.  I can tell.  I can see the steam rising out from under that little bowl.  That's everything tasty escaping.  It's going to be a shriveled piece of black meat by the time you hand it to me.

You're clearly distracted by the other patrons of this fine establishment.

It's more cooked than I'd have liked.  But it's rarer than I expected.  So I'm alright.

Mmm.

I'm uncomfortable.  Everything past me stepping out of the door to me sitting here writing leaves me uneasy.  Did I just need to get out?  Did I just stress eat?  Do I have a fixation on burgers?  Why am I writing about this?  I'm going to post this on some sort of social networking site.  Does being candid about vanity excuse it? Is any of this really about the burger?