Oakland burger

I’d been eyeing that In-N-Out off the Hegenberger exit on the 880 for at least a year now. Every time I go to the Oakland Airport, that In-N-Out taunts me, standing there in all its meaty glory knowing that I don’t have time to stop off for a burger since I barely have time to make a mad dash through the security check with shoe laces still untied. But, today was different. As Simron and I headed off the freeway at the Hegenberger exit, I was determined to have lunch at that In-N-Out, and, that determination paid off.

We were going to Oakland for a training session at the Oakland Airport Hilton, an odd place for a financial workshop and an even more oddly laid-out hotel. After three hours of sitting in a freezing conference room being lectured on the intricacies of the federal financial aid process, we (really, all of us, bosses and all) were ready to ditch those FAFSA worksheets and head for the warmth of meat patties wedged between grilled onions, thousand island sauce, lettuce, tomatoes, and fluffy white buns. The second we were released for lunch, we hurried to the car, zoomed out of the parking lot, and made a bee-line straight for the In-N-Out.

We maneuvered our way around the crowded parking lot with a line of thirty cars waiting for the drive-through. I wondered where all these people were coming from since there isn’t much in terms of businesses or homes near the airport. We squeezed inside the In-n-Out white building, and I stepped up the counter, “Could I have a Number 1 animal-style with extra pickles, please?” It’s a well-rehearsed line, one whose origin dates back to my high school days, when I went to a school that was situated across from the twentieth In-N-Out to be in existence (the first one is located in the nearby city of Baldwin Park).

This Oakland burger was just as good as all those that I’ve had on homecoming trips to LA. The lettuce was crispy, the grilled onions were the perfect color of translucent bronze, the bun had just the slightest bit of crunch around the edges, the cheese melted into everything, and the meat was, eh, okay (the meat patties aren’t anything to write home about, but I think it’s the combination of all the other burger elements that makes an In-N-Out burger so good). I inhaled my burger, pushed those bits of meat into my mouth with those crisp French fries, and tried not to choke as I sipped my Lemon-Up.

Sitting there outside on those round tables covered by those red umbrellas on a warm day like today made me feel, just for the slightest moment, that I was in LA again. Too bad that bit of daydreaming reminiscence was brought to a halt when the reality of two and half more hours of financial aid fun was awaiting me.