I want a burger? I... what?

Thanks for the gift card, Heather. I'm hooked.

I've never understood people saying "I want a burger." Why? If I went for fast-food, I'd much rather have had Arby's (then again, I still might, especially if curly fries are involved), and then there's Taco Bell, anything chicken at Wendy's, and obviously-- Dominoes-- oy, their new recipe far surpasses any other pizza. But want a burger? Meh. Even at a family BBQ there was always something better on the menu. Now thanks to In-N-Out I understand the concept of burger lust. 

The hype surrounding the place originally made me skeptical;  one opened in Orem and was swamped for three months and every Californian in Utah salivated like a zombie when the yellow arrow was visible. Soon after my first In-N-Out sample I began to provide Dylan with excuses to go back for more. Surprisingly, it's not just the food that's different. 

Every surface in an In-N-Out shines with a clean gleam, people working behind the counter are neither slow, stupid, incompetent nor angry, ingredients are surprisingly real, and the taste...hommina. Holding my cheeseburger in hand, I felt like Willy Wonka beside lickable-wallpaper: the cheese actually tastes like cheese! The bun tastes like bread! The meat has seasoning! Fries are made from actual potatoes! The lettuce is crispy, and if you ask for onions they give you an entire onion slice. Mercy!

Much to my surprise, I... want a burger.