Letter to In-N-Out

I just sent this to the In-N-Out corporate offices. I hope they get back to me, by God I hope they get back.

Dear In-N-Out Burgers,

I respectfully wish to inquire as to why your company does not value its San Francisco customers and, with its placement of a restaurant near Fisherman's Wharf, has become most unChrist-like.

If you, dear reader of this inquiry, are not familiar with your San Francisco restaurant, please allow me to explain:

When I need a quality In-N-Out burger, I am not simply "In-N-Out." As there is no drive-through, and it is located in the center of a hornet's nest of Alcatraz t-shirt-toting sloths moving at a snail's pace and wedged in tightly among the Rainforest Cafe, a wax museum, Ripley's Believe It or Not museum, the Hard Rock Cafe and HOOTERS, I am never "In-N-Out." I am in, and then I am in for a while longer, and then still I'm in, and then I'm turning to the cowboy from Wichita standing in line next to me and attempting to remain pleasantly cool-headed as he makes a painful gesture of banal sarcasm about how much he is enjoying the wait, and then I am in for quite a while more, until, upon realizing I have loaded my tray up with food with absolutely no place to set it and actually eat it, am told that I can sit outside in the cold and misty wharf-front plaza in a table facing HOOTERS, where I, among dozens of innocents under the age of 12, will sit and stare in bewilderment at the heaving HOOTERS chests carrying buffalo wings and cobb salads to truck driver types--then and only then am I officially "out."

I believe that the placement of this particular restaurant is not very good PR for the state of California, and I'll tell you why.

There was a time when In-N-Out evoked warm, wholesome images of good, honest God-fearing kids out cruising in '57 Chevys along the PCH, popping bubble gum, sharing sodas 'n such. Not with this San Francisco restaurant, not anymore. Now, whenever I want to visit your fine establishment, I must suffer through said tourists, HOOTERS, and a homeless man who makes more money than I will earn this year by hiding behind a bush and scaring the (and I do apologize for using the Lord's name in vain) holy Jesus out of pedestrians. After the shock that there is actually not a volcano monster hiding behind a bush outside of some godforsaken salmonella seafood shack, the tourists are generally so thankful that they wind up handing over an inordinate amount of money to this hobo.

I ask you, In-N-Out representative at the In-N-Out Corporate Office at 4199 Campus Drive, 9th Floor Irvine, CA 92612, what would founders Harry and Esther Snyder think of this atrocious locale? WWHAESD?

I will leave you with a Revelation you should be most familiar with, as it is printed on your burger wrappers, in Revelation 3:20 it is said:

"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me."

Never does it state "..will sup with him and stare at HOOTERS."

That is all.

Thank you for your time on this matter.

Yours,
Amity B