That Better Be One HECK Of A Cheeseburger

I’m back from New York City and images of Times Square, the views from the Top of the Rock, and my walk out to the tram to Roosevelt Island still burn fresh in my brain.

But there is one image in particular that really haunts me even with thousands of miles now separating us.

The hotel’s $26 room service cheeseburger.

To be honest, it might not have even BEEN a cheeseburger. It might have cost you extra for the cheese. I don’t remember to be honest.

Still being on Pacific Time in my mind and belly, it wasn’t unusual for me to crave a snack at, say, 1am.

So for the heck of it, I looked at the room service menu.

Home of the $26 burger.

Well, that’s BASE price. No dealer add ons or power windows.

It would still cost $4 to bring it to your room (by singing telegram? by crane?). Factor in New York City taxes and the gratuity you would probably feel obligated to leave (let’s say…even 10% which is low for big city standards).

Then you are looking at a $35 BURGER.

What the HECK?!?!

Oh…and you would probably want to wash it down with someone more than tap water (I THINK that was free). How about a $7 can of Coke or Sprite from the minibar?

No, thanks.

I hope to be rich someday. I KNOW I will be rich someday.

But I don’t think, even then, that I will be wasting my money on $35 burgers.

Heck, not when you have the $2 falafel stand on every street corner.

The vendors will even throw in the smile and chatter for free.