Two and a half weeks ago Samantha and I went out for drinks and cheeseburgers.  You might not know this about me, but I don't eat a lot of meat.  A few times a year, maybe.  I just don't like it.  I'm not on a dietary high horse.  Or a social/moral/political one, although it is a damned shame what is happening to our farmers and our farm animals and our farm land and our entire farming industry.  Not to mention what goes on behind slaughterhouse doors and processing units.  Oh, and the grocery industries and our grocery stores?  Let's not even talk about it.  Maybe we can talk about shipping and packaging standards one day.  Labor practices that the truckers are held to, and those styrofoam trays and the plastic wrap and the "expiration date" scams and the refrigeration and lack there of.  Ugh.

It all runs so deep and I'm just too shallow.  I'm not getting into it.

And when I do eat meat, it has to be done a certain way.  Like, not done at all.  If it is slightly warm or brown I will not eat it.  The edges can be seared, but that's it.  It's not really easy to find a restaurant that will serve you plate of practically raw meat.  Most places here in town that used to do it won't do it anymore because instead of raising prices on their burgers, they lowered quality.  What was once a Grade A, Top Quality Ground Sirloin?  Well, now it isn't.  You can't just serve any type of beef rare.  Well, you can.  But not without some severe and painful consequences.

So, cheeseburgers.  Extra rare.  Hard to find.

We landed ourselves at Rouge.  Have you been there?  It's one of Philadelphia's "better" spots, overlooking Rittenhouse, but it's casual which is perfect since we were wearing jeans and even though it's a bit pricey it isn't over the top.  Plus, we had just saved a lot of money by taking an hour-long walk around town because it was absolutely gorgeous out.  How is that saving money? you ask?  Easy!  We weren't sitting in a bar spending it.

We ordered drinks and our burgers and when they came out a girl sitting at the bar (which is about two feet away from our table, the place is tiny) turned around and gushed about how great they smell and how she has heard amazing things about them and how she is the Burger Queen and she gets the burger no matter where she goes and this is the only place she's never had one and and and and and and as a way to get her to shut up so I could eat I offered her a bite.  And of course she said no, but then she said, "well, maybe if you don't finish it".

Of course I'm not going to finish this thing.  The patty is the size of a softball.  It's $16 worth of food.  Meat.  My body can't handle half of this thing.  I don't eat this much beef in a year's time.  But surely she can't be serious.  If she wants one so bad, she'd order one.  I mean, her drinks probably cost $16.  One less merlot and one more burger, right?  Right?

The whole time we were eating, this girl (who was a normal looking girl, I might add.  Cute enough.  Not fat, not skinny.  Just a normal girl hanging out in Rittenhouse.  Long brown hair, by the looks of her tan make up and the sound of her voice I'm guessing she drove across the bridge to come out that night.  Dark pants, black and white striped sweater.  Expensive purse.  High heels.  Totally normal.  If you've been out in that part of town, you know exactly what I'm talking about) was eyeing us up.  Nostrils flaring.  She put on her lipstick twice.  Because it had been licked off, I presume.

As a joke, sort of, I put my leftovers on my bread plate and offered them to her.  And she took them.  And started eating them faster than I could warn her that the burger was, for all intents and purposes, raw.  Most people don't like raw meat.  Most people don't want my left overs.  Most people don't even want to watch me eat what is on my plate.  This girl was eating so fast that she didn't seem to notice that there was blood on her hands.  When I did get the warning out, she swallowed and replied, "oh I know!  I love it!  Usually when people give me their burgers, they are medium or medium well, and that is way too overdone for me.  This is just perfect!"

Recap.  Slo mo.  Usually when people give me their burgers...
This isn't the first time she's done this.
She's the Hamburglar. 

It's funny.  And shocking.  And weird.  And taboo.  And a thousand other things.  It happened two weeks ago and I'm still not sure exactly what happened there and what to think of it.  I mean, I'm really happy someone ate it, because that's a lot of food to go to waste.  I wouldn't have taken it home.  
I wouldn't have given that burger to a homeless person because raw foods usually send the old colon into a tailspin.  And if you don't have a working toilet at your disposal?  Yeah.
In all my years of working in and eating in restaurants, I've never seen this.  I can't stop thinking about it.
I've come to the conclusion that it's actually kind of sad.  None of her friends acted like it was strange.  No one said "put that down!" or "what are you doing!" or "if you are hungry let's order something!".  No one said anything.  It wasn't very late at night.  Nine maybe?  Ten.  No one should be so drunk by then that a stranger's food in an upscale- or downscale, or off scale, or even effing McDonald's- restaurant seems appealing.  No one should be so hungry that scraps are the only option.
It's a burger.  It wasn't something exotic that she maybe wanted to try before ordering.  Or her favorite something that the kitchen ran out of.  Or, gosh, I don't know.  I just don't know.

The damned girl ate off my plate in a fancypantsed place and I don't know what to make of it.

Do you?