Haunted by In-N-Out

I’d kill for an In-N-Out burger. I’m 64 percent serious.

I’ve heard for years that In-N-Out is the burger, that Five Guys, Fat Burger, Good Times, Burger King don’t even compare. But In-N-Out is so far away and it seems like the closer I physically get to an In-N-Out location, the more I hear the praise and the farther away I feel.

Living in Maryland you hardly ever hear of In-N-Out except when someone comes back from vacation in Los Angeles. In Colorado everyone’s heard of In-N-Out, most people have had it and everyone raves about how there’s no burger on Earth quite like In-N-Out. They wear shirts and hats and some people have even stolen In-N-Out’s signature red tray that their burgers come on. And then there’s me, with a growling stomach and a frown on my face as I down another “inferior” burger.

It’s heartbreaking.

From Boulder, Colorado, the closest In-N-Out Burger is nine (9) hours away. In Utah. And I’ve thought more than once about driving there.

We’d drive through the dullness that is the America east and west of Denver to come to a burger stand, grab one or six of the holy grails of hamburgers (per person) and then get back in the car and head home. You can’t be stuck in Utah for that long before it starts to get to you. But damnit, I’m hungry and these lowly patties won’t do the trick.