I had a fun long weekend visiting my friend Kerri in Sacramento. On my way home Monday night, I decided to stop at In-N-Out Burger, quickly use the facilities, grab some tasty grub, and head back on home. (Diet? What? I walked a lot this weekend...doesn't it even out?) Of course, the one time I'm planning to park and go in (because traffic has been slow, and I really need to head inside), there are only a few cars in the drive-thru line.
Anyway, I take care of business and proceed to order off of the easy order menu. #3 with a diet Coke. That's a plain old hamburger, fries and a drink. Pretty easy, right? Well, I sit and wait...and wait...and wait a little more. Easy order...the only special thing I did was ask for no onions. All these order numbers higher than mine are being called. And I'm only getting hungrier, sitting on the hard plastic bench, waiting for my order to be up so I can get back on the road.
I see a few takeout bags hit the counter at the fry station and then move on to the pick-up counter. Dare I hope? The guy in white peeks at the order slips in each bag, calls a number that isn't mine, and returns one bag to the fry guy. Yep, that problematic bag is mine. It makes it back to the counter and my number is finally up. I get back in the car and start mindlessly munching on hot french fries as I head home to feed the cat. After getting home, feeding poor neglected Gracie and settling down in front of my TV, I take out the burger and notice a thick layer of cheese. I assume I have been eating someone else's order...Nope, it says #3, hamburger, no onions, right there on the receipt in the bag. Oh well, I'm hungry and I'll go ahead and consume these extra fatty calories. I take a few bites, and notice that not only is this the thinnest meat patty that I've ever gotten from In-n-Out, it's bright pink inside. Not bleeding, but not close enough to "done" for me to keep eating. Now I'm annoyed. I yank the patty off of the bun (which is difficult, considering that it's glued in by the cheese), and irritatedly continue to eat my hot cheese sandwich. Yeah, now I'm realizing that I could have nuked the meat, but I didn't think of it then.
Anyway, the cheesy/veggie on a bun is still pretty tasty, so I finish it off and delve back into the greasy bag to see if there are any fries left. Jackpot! They can't hide from me! I'm popping some little fries in my mouth and notice that one in my hand has something on it.
Hmm... I bring it closer to my blind little eyes and see...no, it can't be. It's...a hair! A very short hair. A very specifically textured, very short hair!! Oh my God there's pubic hair in my food! Suddenly I'm nauseated, and wondering if the undercooked meat has given me e-coli. Or, even scarier - were there more hairs in the bag that I may have eaten while shoving fries down my gullet in my darkened car??!! I realize that is highly unlikely. But the thought came unbidden! My only comfort (small and cold that it is) is that if the hair had been in the boiling oil, the heat would have killed any bacterial nasties that may have been clinging to it.
So disgusting...I felt semi-ill the rest of the night and most of yesterday. It is making fasting for Ash Wednesday much easier today. And, I have a feeling I'll not be tempted to go off the diet for an In-N-Out binge anytime soon.
I am still grossed out.