What I will miss most about LA is In-N-Out.

I know, I know – by this point, the love affair with In-N-Out is so played-out that the place is now waaaaay overrated. I think the reason why In-N-Out is so overhyped is the east coast/west coast situation. By this I mean, do you know what fast food burgers are available to the large majority of east coasters? McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s. That’s pretty much it. This is what we’ve been eating our entire lives, moving between those three, with no variety, same thing, all the time. It gets pretty old after a while. But on the west coast, in addition to those three, you have In-N-Out. You have Jack in the Box. You have Carl’s Jr (in my opinion, a terrific burger). Also, I’ve found that LA has more of a burger culture than NYC. I have no empirical evidence to back this up, nor do I want to read your emails defending NYC as burger capital of America/the world/the universe, but in my experience in LA, they are more a burger population than we are.

So anyway, you have all these east coasters who grew up on the Big Three and coming to LA and seeking out In-N-Out, because they’ve heard it’s great, or maybe because they remember it from Big Lebowski, or whatever (for whatever reason, no one gets off a plane at LAX and says, “I can’t wait to hit Carl’s Jr!”). And then those east coast transplants/visitors eat and subsequently rave about this fresh burger, and then go back and tell their east coast friends about it, and when those friends make a trip west, they hit In-N-Out, and the cycle continues. Thus, In-N-Out is, I’m comfortable saying, very overrated.

But here’s the thing: it’s still a good burger. It’s made fresh, and the animal-style topping (grilled onions, thousand island-type sauce) is just fucking delicious. Also, I’ve gone on record that In-N-Out has the best vanilla milkshake I’ve ever had. Not ashamed to throw that out there. So while the fries could use a little work, it’s still a great product. And thus, I will miss it.

So my plan, with less than a week left in LA, was to eat so much of In-N-Out that I wouldn’t miss it.* Essentially, I’d try to make myself sick of it. Short on time and not wanting to take 3-4 years off my life, I didn’t want to eat it every night for a week in a row. Instead, I’d try to max out in one meal, getting an animal-style 4×4 (four beef patties, four slices of cheese), animal-style fries (fries topped with cheese and covered with the grilled onions/thousand island mix) and a large vanilla shake, a meal nicknamed “I’ve Given Up.”

[*This is kind of hard to explain, but I notice that as I get older, my refractory period for everything gets longer and longer (bear with me). For those of you who don't know, the refractory period is the time between orgasms, specifically for a male (I think - no way I'm googling "refractory period" at work, though apparently I have no problem writing about it). For example, when I was 18, I could beat off, and then be ready to beat off again just a few minutes later. Likewise, when I started having sex, I could do it over and over again (physical stamina permitting) without having to wait long periods of time between love-making. But then, as I got older, those times between got longer and longer:

18
Time between beat-offs: two-five minutes minimum
Time between sex sessions: ready again now, please (if I had had sex at this age, that is)

22
Time between beat-offs: at least a half-hour
Time between sex sessions: I think I'll have another one in me in about fifteen or so, maybe ten depending upon the situation (i.e. am I drunk, is the girl hot, how does the room smell, can I keep my shirt on, etc)

26
Time between beat-offs: I'm 26, and probably don't need to be jerking off more than once an hour. However, I do have some time to kill...
Time between sex sessions: meh, I'm probably just gonna grab a nap and we can pound one out again when I wake up

30
Time between beat-offs: I don't know if I'm healthy enough for more than one orgasm every four-six hours
Time between sex sessions: I don't know if we really need to even see each other again, because I'm all set

But my personal ever-increasing refractory period also applies to a number of other things: food, restaurants and bars, trips and cities, friends, physical activity (i.e. I ran five miles once three months ago, so I won't need to do that again for another nine months), etc. So this was my logic behind the overload of In-N-Out: not only do I need things less often, but I'll also get so much of it that I really won't want it for awhile. Dig?]

There is an In-N-Out in Westwood near UCLA just about a mile from my house. Usually, I walk there, but I have been incredibly busy this week, what with moving and all, so I figured on a lovely Tuesday evening that I’d jump in the old Town Car, head on up Westwood Boulevard and into UCLA, and grab my SUPER MEAL and gorge myself back at home. We’re talking a fifteen minute trip, tops.

Well.

I noticed that traffic heading into the UCLA area was a little heavier than usual, but it was rush hour and this was not unexpected. Plus, I was starving for that In-N-Out. So I forged ahead.

I didn’t realize what I was getting into before it was too late: the reason traffic was bad near UCLA was because the fucking premiere of the new Twilight movie was going on at that very time. And because the area near UCLA is a series of windy streets that are unfamiliar to me, and because I drive a ginormous car, and because traffic was bumper to bumper, and because there were about 15,000,000 nerds and media people within two blocks of the In-N-Out I was heading to, I was trapped. When I eventually broke free, I had to take a series of back roads and use my iPhone GPS twice to free myself of Westwood Village. I had left my apartment at 5:30pm. It was now after 6:30pm. Mission: Fail.

But because I was now at this point both ravenously starving and enraged, I was even more determined to get that In-N-Out. So I went to the one on Venice Blvd in Palms, four or so miles from my house. That trip was uneventful but successful (the most disappointing part was when I ordered my gigantic meal and the high schooler taking my order was not impressed in the least and didn’t even look up from her cash register). But all in all, my simple trip that should have taken fifteen minutes, took nearly an hour and a half, all because of terrible traffic due to a movie premiere. That’s LA for you.

[As for the meal itself, wowza. Even though I pooped almost immediately after finishing it and then woke up at 4am the following day with more poop pains, I think I could have done a 5x5 (my buddy Brian suggest I add a beef patty/slice of cheese each day to see what I max out at). But guys, do not try this at home. Not for the faint of stomach. Like, at all. Before/after pics of the meal are available on my Facebook and Twitter pages.]

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As I mentioned, this week has been a crazy, crazy time for me, as I apparently forgot how much of a nightmare moving can be. In addition to the packing, sorting, cleaning and throwing out, I’m also going to be out of the office and essentially unreachable all next week, so my days are cycles of crazy busy at work followed by crazy busy at home. My dad lands in LA in about 29 hours and we’re hitting the road in about 50 hours, and I can say that (personally and professionally) I’m only about 38% prepared for this move. Yikes.

Fortunately, my employer has allowed me to work adjusted hours this week, so instead of doing 9-5, I’m doing more like 7-3. This allows me to do those afternoon things (i.e. oil changes, laundry/dry cleaning, buying moving supplies) that are easier when everyone else is still working until 5pm. Also, it helps with the traffic, but I now live a four-minute drive from work, so that’s not really an issue.

This morning, I was running a bit late and my blackberry was blowing up, so I hastily showered, dressed, got ready and jumped into the car. I turned left onto Olympic, a large six lane boulevard here in LA, and it was surprisingly empty, even for the relatively early hour.

You all know that LA traffic is terrible. I don’t need to harp on this. But when there’s no traffic, it becomes the extreme opposite. For example, when I lived in Redondo, seventeen miles from my office, I’d leave the office at 5pm and would be home at 6:41pm, full of anger and just miserable. However, when I’d leave the office at 9pm, I’d be home by 9:19pm, and it was like it was goddamn Christmas morning. I’d be so, so happy. Instead of being crammed with thousands of other cars, I’d have the 405 almost to myself, could speed and weave as I pleased, and would actually enjoy the drive.

So when I turned on to Olympic this morning, saw there was no traffic at all, and knew I had to get into work asap, you can bet your ass that I floored it. Now, it’s a residential neighborhood and I’m only on Olympic for just over a mile (it also has lights), so it’s not like I was drag racing here. Still, I was comfortably zooming along when suddenly a police officer walked into my line of vision from the right and onto the otherwise empty street and beckoned me to pull over. Crap.

A very nice gentleman, he asked me if I knew how fast I was going. I replied, “Um, 35?” and he informed me that no, I was actually going 56, but then he had me at 50 after I saw him come into view. I started to uncomfortably blurt out, “Well, I didn’t know…” and was going to add, “…that you were there”, but caught myself and trailed off. Probably not the best thing to say to a cop after you’ve been pulled over.

Despite trying to take the jovial approach and telling him that it’s just my luck – I’m leaving LA in three days and I’m getting my first-ever speeding ticket – there was no getting out of it. Though he did cut me some slack and listed me at 50 instead of 56, I got a nice, fat notice to appear in a West LA courthouse on January 5, 2010. The good news is that, according to the officer, I don’t have to appear and can take care of it all online. The fun news is that if he’s wrong and I actually have to appear, well, you fuckers and can come and get me. Because that just ain’t happening.

But yeah, getting my first speeding ticket on my 1.2 mile drive to work on an otherwise empty road at 7am, three days before I’m to move away from this shithole…that’s LA for you.