A really great (read: very bad for you) burger is one of my favorite guilty pleasures. A great burger is celebratory. It is comfort food in times of consusion.
There is something about 2 guys consuming some brazenly cooked red meat together, that gives a primal sense of communion, understanding, and comfort. It’s how we men console each other in times of sorrow. We eat some cow together.
…but that is another subject for another day…
So, I’m rolling into my fav burger joint. I’ve never seen more than 3 customers in this place at any given time. The employee to customer ratio has got to be 3:1. There are 5 dozen people milling around behind the front counter, doing various things; all of them earning an hourly wage.
My burger, fries and drink cost $7.21.
As far as I can tell, this place is shelling out at least $100 / hour in employee wages. That does not count other expenses, like building costs, utilities, cost of food, insurance, taxes, etc…During the time I have spent there tonight, I have witnessed the sale of 3 meals, probably grossing about $30 in one hour.
How does my beloved burger joint stay in business? Even if lunch hour is realy busy, does it really earn enough to make up for the hours when they are losing money?
I worry about these guys.
I’m pretty sure that the owner of this place knows where the money trees grow. I just need to get in his good graces and find this place.
But here is the bigger question: Why do I care? Why did I spend so much mental energy while I was there, worrying that they are losing money? Why could I not just be in the moment, in all it’s greasy glory, enjoying my weekly dose of cholesterol and pastrami laden beef?
And all those calories are guilt free tonight, my friend…this burger joint is at the bottom of the big ass hill that I live on… and I rode my bike to dinner tonight. 😉
