I was wondering why there were so many people, so many cars all the time at this one In-N-Out Burger place on Tropicana Avenue near the Strip in Las Vegas. I was naturally curious, as any retiree with lots of time on his hands would be curious.
"Why is that place packed all the time?" is the logical question.
No longer able to resist the temptation to gulp down In-N-Out's double-double, I finally took my wife and kid last year to that In-N-Out place on Tropicana by the Strip and like everybody else, placed our order and sat and sat and sat. You can't call a restaurant a fast-food place, I guess, if you have to wait up to half an hour to get your order to go.
There we were, waiting for what felt like half an hour - I'm sure it was less time than that. I hate long lines, especially at the supermarket where there's always a fat woman who must rummage through her pocketbook to find the right coupons to give to the checker. My wife tells these really hilarious stories about my reactions whenever I'm held up at the checkout counter by a fat woman who can't find her discount coupons.
Yet, there I was, calm and collected, minus the usual feelings of anxiety and restlessness and slow boil because everybody else was waiting for what must feel like, for them, their last meal after losing a fortune in Vegas.
What is taken to Vegas, stays in Vegas.
"This is where all those who lost all their money in the casinos go for their lunch or early dinner, and that is why it is always full," I thought to myself.
Since our first adventure in In-N-Out last year, I have since found out that that particular In-N-Out location holds the distinction of being the biggest selling In-N-Out location in the universe. That In-N-Out outsells the next best selling In-N-Out outlet by a mile.
I have noticed this about In-N-Out employees. They are all neatly dressed, smart-looking in their white uniforms, complete with a white soda jerk hat for the guys and red baseball caps for the gals. They all look like college students with a future. Of course, this could also be said about employees in most fast food restaurants. Rarely will you ever find dead-enders serving you who, if they are not old, will most likely grow old in their jobs. In McDonald's case, all the female employees look like jail bait.
Speaking of age, I was sitting there watching those young, college student-looking employees methodically put ketchup, mustard, a few slivers of onions, lettuce and tomatoes on top of hamburger patties that are separated by probably the best cheese slices in the universe, sprinkle the whole mix with the In-N-Out special sauce to come up with the most desirable burgers in the western United States. Paris Hilton goes to In-N-Out whenever she craves burgers, and I'm not following this up with any hamburger patty jokes.
I have fun watching the white-and-red clad employees put together what must be a couple of hundred (exaggeration) double-doubles over the nearly half hour that I wait every time I go to that In-N-Out Burger place on Tropicana. And they never get tired.
This has led me to believe that they are aware they make probably the best-tasting double cheeseburgers in the world for under $3.
My mind wanders. What if I or any other senior is doing that job? Could we do it? No way, I say to myself.
The Top Ten Reasons we seniors cannot put together the Double-Double cheeseburger at In-N-Out:
10. We can't work while standing anymore; we need a desk.
9. We can't work for fifteen minutes without taking a bathroom break.
8. We probably will forget to wash our hands on at least one of those bathroom breaks.
7. We will constantly reach for a tissue to blow our nose.
6. There will be an avalanche of complaints when we pass gas.
5. We will create a personnel crisis when we accidentally brush against co-workers of the opposite sex.
4. We will look like customers instead of employees.
3. We will bitch about the low wages.
2. We can't take orders from our 19 year old boss.
1. Our falling hair will end up in the burgers.
