There is a myth that exists in Bangkok of a burger so great, that you must wear a collared shirt and closed shirt to eat it (according to www.theironfairies.com website). The myth also states that the bar in which this burger lurks is incredibly hard to find and annoyingly not accessible by any of Bangkok's public transport system, and that you'll have to walk an hour asking many Thais with little English how to find it. Even if you have an infected and swollen foot and can barely walk (Dylan), you will dig deep and fight off the pain for this ultimate reward.
There will be cholera and typhoid infested puddles along the way, in which you'll incidentally step in whilst wearing thongs*, and you will be great full you got those shots before you left overseas. You will almost walk past the restaurant because the sign is so small, however the incredible smell of the burger wafting down the street will soon put you back on due course. The smell of this sacred burger is a complete contrast to the pungent odour of fried rice, pork soup, marinated rat and dead dog. It's a garden of eden and you'll soon be the snake.
The myth continues by stating that you'll step into the quirkiest of bars. An abandoned factory where the burger's aroma will soon be mixed with whiffs of an oddly rustic scent lurking within its two-story shop-house confines. The Beef Burger with Bacon will become your choice as you haven't eaten since breakfast, starving yourself for this amazing experience. 'No burger before marriage' is your moral belief but tonight is your honeymoon. The burger will arrive and the bar will fall silent (because you're the only two people in it and no-body else can probably find it either). You're heart will begin to beat faster and your pulse quicken and parts of your body may move out of excitement (your stomach and drooling mouth of course). This burger is like a perfect woman; tender, juicy, hot, big in the right places and doesn't talk. If God created a burger in his image this would be it.
The myth also states that the burger has a knife buried through the middle of it to stop its enormity from spilling out onto the dusty blacksmith floor. You take a bite and a feeling of ecstasy takes over you. You've found the meaning of life, to eat this burger. You don't talk to your friend for the next ten minutes because your mouth is full. You don't want any of the burger infused air in your mouth to escape. Your burps are trapped in your hands and you breath them back in. You are chroming your burps. This burger is your drug of choice.
You finish the burger and consider falling asleep on the table right there and then, burger by your side and waking up the next morning. But then you think, the burger never looks as good in the morning so you make a sneaky exit. You want the memory of the burger to be as it is now. Perfect.
Thongs*= flip flops
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