Person: Daniel Denison

Place: Fatburger

Thing: 1.5 pound, three-patty XXXL hamburger

Price: $9.79

He added: Jalapeños

And almost added: An egg (WTF?)

Everything was: Swimming in grease

Which promptly made: Daniel ill

I think: He barely made it to the bathroom

After: Our conversation

Which unfortunately: Is usually the case

When: Steph DeRosa talks to men

As Mr. DeRosa peered over the partition separating us from Daniel Denison and his Fatburger-eating cohorts, I received a personalized play-by-play on what seemed to be the most hysterical display of greasy-hamburger gluttony ever witnessed. 

MR. DEROSA: "Oh my God, Steph, he can't even fit it in his mouth!"

ME: "If I turn around and look, will it be obvious?"

MR. DEROSA: "No. You gotta look. I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

ME: "Oh good lord, you're right!  I have to go talk to him."

My brain immediately went down a road Adam Corolla often ventures with his hilarious podcast/radio segment called "Who the fuck sells this shit?"  Only replacing Corolla's list of odd Craigslist items for sale, I would use Fatburger's XXXL, three-patty, one-and-a-half-pound burger. 

I would title my version of the segment "Who the fuck eats this shit?"

Apparently Daniel Denison from Portland is who eats this shit.

Not quite fully arrived at his imminent food coma, Denison responded to my quirky inquisitiveness with nothing but regret for having ingested almost half of Fatburger's XXXL burger.  Rubbing his tummy, he replied with statements such as:

"It was so greasy, I'm not sure if I ate it or just rubbed it all over my face."

"I'm 25 years old and do not recommend this burger for the elderly."

"I think before they sent the burger out, they dipped each patty in grease in order to facilitate it going down my throat."

Having traveled up toward Seattle from Portland on a foodie quest, Denison and his friends Shannon and Brandon stopped at Fatburger after hearing of its delicious legacy. "I figured if I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it right the first time," said Denison. " But the minute the burger came to the table, I knew it was a mistake."

"This ruined my experience here at Fatburger," Denison noted. 

I quickly ended the conversation with exhilaration because, for once, I was not The Mistake or what ruined someone's experience. 

Although, I have been called a fatburger.  And those words still hurt.

[Fatburger, 1507 S. 348^th St., Federal way, 253.835.0582]