Let me tell you a story. A story filled with mystery, danger, the highs of human achievement, and heartache (or more appropriately - heartburn).

I describe myself as the real-life Ron Swanson (from Parks & Recreation on NBC) in every way - only without the mustache. (These cats seem to have the look spot-on though http://catsthatlooklikeronswanson.tumblr.com/ ) There are some important things you should know about Ron and myself—we’re fearful of our two ex-wives, love riddles/puzzles/adventure, and LOVE MEAT!—most preferably in the form of steak.

So now about my gift, which began with a threat on my life. I receive the instructions, "You. Downtown Baltimore. Evening of July 27th. DO NOT COME ALONE Imperative for your survival Further instructions will follow. Accept?" I, fearful for my life but never one to back down from a challenge, reply "I accept. I will be accompanied by my bodyguard who is highly trained in the skill of shoe throwing. So beware. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5D5oKEVqQJg"

I soon receive my first gift. A steak knife. One to add to my extensive collection. This is followed by a t-shirt with Ron's face and the words "Turf & Turf: For free Americans!". (For those not-well versed in the art of meat consumption, turf & turf is 2 steaks. Seafood is for the weak. Real men double-down on steak whenever possible.) I'm filled with suspense and fear about the nature of my gift. Could it be a knife fight to the death? Am I to be butchered and made into steak? Will this all be a practical joke and I'll be sent to some hippie-vegan restaurant? I begin to panic and consume the large quantity of meat I keep readily available (with my trusty new knife of course). I can't have that rancid meat smell in my house.

My potential fateful day comes. I head downtown with my bodyguard to wait in Baltimore's Inner Harbor for my instructions. (Coincidentally, Otakon - a large Anime convention - is being held there. So I enjoy some good people watching of the weirdos in their costumes. Get a job! And move out of your parents’ house!) After receiving a false message to play with my emotions, I finally receive my instructions "Go time. 600 Water Street, Baltimore, MD. Tell them you have a 7:45 reservation for [you]. They will handle the rest. Tips for this evening... 1. Be a man. Enjoy." I immediately recognize the address. It is to Ruth's Chris steakhouse, purveyor of the finest steaks in all of Maryland. I'm overjoyed by the prospect.

My bodyguard and I bolt over to the restaurant. Ruth's Chris is a one of the swankiest restaurants in Baltimore. You are not admitted if you are wearing sneakers, shorts, or a t-shirt - all of which I'm wearing. I try to play this cool, and instead proceed to knock over the sign with these restrictions. Smooooth... Somehow, this is overlooked and indeed there is a reservation for me and my bodyguard. We are lead upstairs where our table for two awaits. I proceed with extreme caution not knowing what fate awaits me. We are seated and approached by a waiter in a tuxedo. I tell him my tale to this point and he proceeds to get the manager. I admire the fine wood paneling of the restaurant. As a woodworker, I approve.

The waiter he returns with the manager and our specially designated waiter, Scott. Scott presents me with a scotch and glass of ice. I dismiss the ice as a real main drinks his scotch neat - not watered down. The manager says that arrangements have been made. Our entree is covered and being prepared! I'm very excited. We are left alone to ponder what's to come and I enjoy the finest scotch I've ever had. Not knowing what’s ahead of us, we order au gratin potatoes and asparagus to go with our entrée. My (female) bodyguard also orders a salad, and I begrudgingly comply – viewing lettuce as not worthy of the effort of chewing. I munch on bread while our entree is prepared. That was a poor decision...

My entrée arrives, and...oh...my...gods of beef. I am presented with a MOUNTAIN of the steak comprising a 45oz Porterhouse, 24oz T-bone, and 8oz filet. Gasps come from the surrounding tables. My bodyguard nearly faints (a lot of good she is). I'm floored, but snap myself out of shock, regain my focus, and prepare myself mentally for the challenge ahead. I will clear this plate and everything on the table. It will be my life's greatest achievement.

After reluctantly shaving of a mere 6oz of steak for my bodygauard, I'm left with a total of 71oz of steak before me. I savor the sight and smell. By my first incision, I can tell this is going to the finest steak I have ever eaten. As the medium-rare meat hits my pallet, I'm overwhelmed with ecstasy. I savor it. Tears of joy would have come to eyes if I had the ability to cry. Sex has nothing on this experience. But I know I cannot linger on this bite, I have a challenge ahead of me. I proceed like a machine, methodically executing the pattern of "cut steak", "fork to mouth", "savor", "chew", "breathe", and repeat. I'm making excellent progress. I stop only to have the management take pictures of this feat and chat with the other, less fortunate restaurant patrons. Unlike that weakling Adam Richman on "Man vs. Food", I don't "hit a wall". Before I know it, I have consumed nearly all the steak, cleaning every micro-ounce of beef of the T-bone. I have one bite left. I pause only to take in the height of my accomplishment and this spectacular gift I have received. I prepare myself for the final bite. It is as delicious as the very first bite. I have done it. I have conquered steak mountain.

I receive applause and congratulations from the surrounding tables whom have recognized the feat of manhood they have just witnessed. Not to be satisfied, I also proceed to complete my lesser challenges of finishing the potatoes, asparagus, bread, and chocolate cake for dessert. As the evening concludes, I reflect mystery of my gift, the peril that could have befallen me, the height of my accomplishment and joy, and the impending meat coma I'm about to enter. I walk with my head high out of the restaurant, 71+ oz heavier, concluding an amazing evening.

My super-secret-arbitrary-day Santa has given me greatest gift I have ever received and should I die soon (which is quite likely due to the quantities of meat consumed), I will do so a happy man. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!