Part One

The Place You Go When It's Time To Go
Part One "The Fort Knox of Burgers"




"Sees sees won.." An odd thickly accented voice echoed throughout the parking lot from a scratchy old Jack in the Box speaker that hung somewhere out of view.

"This will be the last time I speak of it. " He said matter of factly from across the bench table. I looked around thinking this man was speaking to someone else. Nervously, I glanced at my 20 dollar knock-off Rolex watch, It was 3 O'clock in the morning.

I had ordered a double cheeseburger and curly fries from the walk-up window. I sat at a bench nearby that happened to be occupied by an a homeless looking man.
It was hard to tell. His hat concealed his eyes, and although his clothes didn't appear dirty or torn It was my first guess.

The awning of the fast food establishment hovered above us, all the other tables were covered with wet dripping trash. I looked around, all the trash receptacles were empty. I guess people that came here that late felt compelled to leave a little of themselves behind after they consumed their meal. We sat across from each other at the only dry table. A good portion of the table top was cluttered with half eaten burgers, crumpled cups and a few beer bottles.

"Number seex seex doo" A voice called out another order number. A giant bald black man accompanying a tiny Asian girl retrieved three bulging bags of food. When they walked past our table, the two stared at us.

I scanned the place. It was a strange fast food joint. After 11pm the doors closed, but one could order food from a walk up window that was protected by a bullet proof sealed glass box. This box had both- doors on the inside so the order could be placed from inside, and a door on the outside so you could retrieve it. It was impossible for one to open and reach inside the box while the order was being passed into it from the inside.
"Shit!" I thought. The burgers in this place must be worth their weight in gold!

The cooks and counter persons inside looked tired, and haggard, they weren't smiling, they had lifeless blank stares on their faces, almost robotic. It was as if they were in their very own personal Hell.
From inside their kitchen looking out, It would seem that this line outside never ended. I counted the number of people here, and calculated that for every three people being served, six would drive into the lot and wait in line. It was, in fact, the Fort Knox of burger joints.