My doppelganger is out to ruin me
Published 7:33 pm Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Wait! Let me explain. I know some of you may have seen a portly fellow fitting my description on Wednesday’s food page scarfing an amazingly gargantuan plate of food at Baron’s Pub Saturday. And those of you who are loyal and supportive readers of my column may be asking, “Doesn’t eating an seven pound burger and a pound of fried potatoes fly contrary to the promises that were made to lose weight and looking ahead to thinner days?”
To that, good citizens of Suffolk, let me respond by asking a question: Do you know what a doppelganger is? Well, for those who don’t, a doppelganger is a ghostly double or counterpart of a living person. I happen to know for a fact my doppelganger has made a few trips to the Suffolk area.
Some of you may have seen him gobbling up spicy chili in the spring at last year’s Chili Fest. Or sampling an abundance of bacon-wrapped quail legs at the last Taste of Suffolk. So, apparently, my doppelganger likes to go out to festivals and fine eating establishments and consume large amounts of food. He also loves to take eating challenges like the one at Baron’s Pub on Main St., where one gets to take on the Baronator, a pound of french fries and roughly seven pounds of the most wonderful hamburger I’ve ever tasted. I mean, he’s ever tasted.
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Moreover, my mischievous doppelganger seems to enjoy accidentally flinging ketchup all over my shirt (I mean, all over his shirt) before starting this competition, somehow projecting a bad omen over the entire eating adventure.
And roughly 32 minutes or so into this delightful feast of Americana, I, I mean this wicked doppelganger, realized the folly of his ways in trying to literally bite off more than I, I mean he, can chew. And not that I would know, but one discovers it is the excessive chewing and not the tremendous mass of masticated beef filling your tummy that truly torpedoes one’s efforts to defeat the Baronator.
And though I heard the Baronator defeated him, my doppelganger remains ever optimistic that he will not bite off more than he can chew the next time he meets up with the glorious Baronator … So I hear.
In my doppelganger’s defense, though, taking on the Baronator is an eating challenge of such a magnitude that neither I nor my misunderstood ganger could ever pass up. The moment that giant metal pizza tray hits the dining table, one’s eyes just lights up with the shear wonder of so much ground beef, potatoes and all the delectable fixings. So I would imagine, for it was my doppelganger, not I, who engaged in such an awesome challenge. I swear to all you good people of Suffolk on the plate of carrots now in front of me it was not I enjoying that mammoth pile of meat and fries.
I would never do that while dieting … but my doppelganger would.