In N Out from the Interstate

I was with a group of college kids years ago coming back from a retreat. We had been on a raging yet contemplative church trip to Lake Skinner. It was about 112 degrees and we were all sunburned and pleasantly spent from a week of Sea Doos, acoustic music on the beach and waterskiing. I remember being so thirsty I thought my mouth was made of leather. We had no more water in the car and we were speeding about 90 down the interstate with all the windows of the full size van popped open. The girls in the back were complaining they were starving and most the guys were either asleep or complaining themselves. Kevin, the daredevil, was nursing an ankle sprain when his foot got caught in the binding. Still, he was sort of the “tigger” or happy source of the group,

“There’s an In n Out burger about 5 miles up the road.” He assured everyone.

Nice! We all collectively thought. Visions of simmering cow meat and secret sauce filled our minds along with cold cokes and chocolate shakes . . . and of course, the fries . . . who could escape the simmering fry images. Well, as hungers usually do, ours grew and grew. 5 miles passed, then 10, then 15. We began to hassle Kevin to no end. After a lot of that and a few noogies and wet willies, it appeared:

The agony of the journey paid off in the moments that followed. The slurps, the burps, the ecstasy . . . A hamburger became a piece of heaven on earth. Stuff like that you don’t forget.

4 Replies to “In N Out from the Interstate”

  1. I first tried “In N Out” this year. Delish! However, I haven’t had red meat or a good helping of fries since the beginning of July. I miss the beef, especially the double double cheese thing, but I’m 7 pounds lighter and oh so much happier. Maybe on our upcoming vacation I’ll splurge.

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