"Burger of the Apocalypse" or "Hell's Beef"

So, I'm not usually given to writing about this sort of thing. Not at all. This is a special occasion. Enter: Odyssey Chicago.

So, I had a burger. It tasted alright, but it's reeking havoc on me. I think something is trying to live in there. Anyways, I had to go. Really really bad. So, I got up to go use the john. The “regular” one, the non-handicapped one, was disgusting to behold. Toilet paper all over the bowl, wet, sticky... used. It was gross. I turn to the handicapped one, and I hear a strange “chunking” sound. I lean in a little, and it's a man, standing up, peeing, and throwing up at the same time. Gross. I turn to leave, and make eye contact with the other guy in the bathroom as we're leaving (men's room etiquette no-no), and he says, “I'll be damned. First time I've seen that.” Indeed.

So, I went back to my table and sat and waited for a few minutes. Dear Lord, I can wait no longer. I think I actually ignored one of my friends as I ran to the john. I get there, and, good, the handicapped one is free, and this man was one of talent, apparently. The bowl is clean. I do my business, and as I leave, I notice little pools of carrot and noodle on the floor. Gross. Apparently his aim is not as good as previously thought.

So, here I am now. This burger is still working its dark magic on me. My stomach feels very hellish, and I, in general, feel very weird. I wonder if I got food poisoning. Maybe I'll get to call in tomorrow and stay home. Wouldn't that be a treat? I mean, a treat with a cost.