A Pastrami Burger Ended It


I don't remember too much -- the main thing I remember is a pastrami burger ended it.

I met this guy a while ago. We started dating and getting to know each other. One thing I found out that started to bother me was he always wanted to get a free ride. I like to do stuff that's free admission, or doesn't cost too much, but I don't take advantage. He was the type to frequently party-crash, and be thrilled he did. Also, he would always come empty-handed to the parties he actually got invited to. This trait, among other things, just didn't sit right with me. I was having my doubts.

Then one night we met up, and he wanted to get something to eat. I had already eaten, so I left it completely up to him to go wherever he wanted. One thing I should mention is I told him when we met I didn't eat meat, and I preferred a boyfriend who didn't either. "Oh, that's no problem," he said, "I don't care what kind of food I eat."

So out of ALL the restaurants in NYC, he picked a deli-type restaurant to go to. "Hmm," I thought, "but let me see what happens." So then out of ALL the things on the menu in this restaurant, he ordered a pastrami burger. "What's a pastrami burger?" I thought to myself, "Is it chopped up pastrami, shaped like a hamburger?"

No, it's not, as I was to discover. A pastrami burger at this restaurant was a big, fat hamburger on one side of the roll, and a mound of sliced pastrami on the other side. No lettuce, no tomato -- not a vegetable in sight. Now that's hard-core. In my mind, it was over then and there. We said our good-byes, and it really was good-bye.


I went on a few dates with this guy in approximately 1991.

I wrote this story in 1996.