It's all my parents' fault. I would never have become addicted if they hadn't of introduced me to my downfall. And then they go and move to Chattanooga, TN. Not far from the very first institute that produced my addiction. And HOME of my addiction's headquarters.

Supposedly, to cure an addiction, you gather with others that have the same addiction and you introduce yourself and tell everyone what your problem is. Okay, I can do that.

I am Mountainwinds and I am addicted to Krystal hamburgers.

That did not help one bit! Anyone I know up here that is from the deep South just gets fixated on obtaining a Krystal when the word is spoken. Mentioned it to an online friend who is currently stuck in Canada. She was in Chattanooga at Christmas. And off to the Krystal she went. Same one I frequented as a child. I was in Georgia at Christmas. Made as many trips to the Krystal as I could without the attending family members having a fit. They wanted to eat in these strange places that did not serve Krystals. Several of us from work that are from the deep South tried to figure out one day how long it would take us to drive to North Carolina, eat our Krystals and get back in time for work. And I will forever be grateful to a friend and her husband who stopped while on vacation, got me some Krystals and packed them in dry ice and brought them all the way back to Virginia. You gotta love people like that!

I can tell you exactly where the Krystals are located along my journey to Georgia. Going down I-81, the very first one I've found is in Bristol, TN. Notice--not Bristol, Va. Have to go on the Tennessee side of the line. There is a rumor that there are Krystals in Virginia but I've never found them. Sevierville, TN has a nice Krystal. It's next door to a Wendy's where I can go to the Krystal and my husband (born in Virginia and doesn't recognize the importance of Krystals) can go next door. If I wind up coming up I-75 from Atlanta, I can get off at the Cartersville exit, drive a lot of miles (feels that way) but get my Krystal fix before I get to my mother's. And my little home town of Dalton, Georgia has 2 of them.

And the further south you go, the more often you see them. I can spot one 5 miles away even when I'm dead asleep when my husband is driving. It's the same reaction I have when approaching the "REST STOP, 1 Mile AHEAD" sign. I wake up just in time to tell him to turn in. He's almost trained now to do it automatically.

First time I took hubby home to meet the family, we stopped at a Krystal and I ordered 4 of them. My husband looked at me like I had lost my mind. I normally eat one hamburger. He couldn't imagine what I was going to do with 4. After we got our order, he understood a little better. But he still can't handle them. It's a deep South thing. You have to have started on them as a child.

Long ago and far, far away, I developed a love of Krystals. At the time, we lived in Chattanooga, TN on Rossville Highway. Within walking distance of an addict, was the very first Krystal built in Chattanooga. They were 5 cents at that time. Of course, RC Cola was only 6 cents. And a Big Time candy bar was 5 cents. I have no idea what anything else cost. Those were the main items in my life that required financial knowledge.

By the time I graduated from Jefferson Street Elementary School and had to ride the bus to the junior high school, I was an expert on procuring Krystals. No city school buses in Chattanooga at that time. So my mother would give me enough to ride the bus both ways to and from school. My active little addicted brain figured out that if I got off the city bus on the way home from school at a certain place, I would have exactly enough money to buy a Krystal. And that spot just happened to be in front of the first Krystal in Chattanooga. Then I could walk the rest of the way home and get there before my mother got home from work.

I think I was 35 or so before I came clean and told my mother about my early days of addiction. And I made sure I was on the other side of the table so she couldn't reach me. Even at 35, I figured I wasn't totally safe from her.

So, yes, I'm addicted to Krystal hamburgers. I don't want their chicken, hotdogs or anything else. I WANT A KRYSTAL! And come to think of it, I don't care if I'm addicted. We each have to have one thing we'll go out of the way for. Mine happens to be small, square hamburgers cooked with onions.

When I'm old and gray (alright, alright--OLDER AND GRAYER), don't bother buying me junky robes or nicknacks or such. Just stop by the Krystal and bring'em on. When I don't grab them from you, you'll know I've reached the end.

And to my lawyer--check my will closely. It specifies that the person who inherits my estate will be the one who provided me with the most Krystals. Everyone else is cut out of the will!