Five Guys Burgers and Fries

The story of my visit to Five Guys is first and foremost a mathematical story problem. On Sunday evenings, I play Dungeons and Dragons with a group of buddies. On one particular Sunday I had the idea that we could share some fellowship around a different table, a table at Five Guys Burger and Fries on Hulen by the mall. I invited my six friends, Josh, Adam, David, Dustin, Chad and Randy to accompany me on my first voyage to this particular burger joint. Dustin had to work and Chad had a previous dinner engagement, but the rest of us hopped in a car and drove on out to Five Guys. How many people, including myself, went to eat at Five Guys?

The answer is five guys. Five guys went that day to eat at Five Guys.

I'm writing this blog today not for the sake of promoting arithmetic to a population that finds story problems annoying, but to tell you that the five guys that went out to dinner that evening found themselves incredibly satisfied with their Five Guys experience.

Prior to arriving at Five Guys I did some research online. This is because I found it difficult to believe that a fast food restaurant could be anywhere near as good as my buddy Josh boasted. I came across a ranking of the best fast food by Zagat Survey and Five Guys was rated number one in fast food hamburgers and number two in fast food french fries behind McDonalds. In-N-Out Burger, the only fast food burger place I'd ever heard anyone rave about prior to the Five Guys hubbub was ranked right behind Five Guys for both burgers and fries. I also came across possibly the most creative review I've ever read of any restaurant ever: "Willy Wonka's of Burgercraft" (Washingtonpost.com 2000).

The normal Hamburger at Five Guys is what would be called a double at other restaurants, equipped with two beef patties and your choice of toppings. If two beef patties is two much (PUN!) then you should order the Little Hamburger, which is more like a single at other restaurants than it is like a kid's hamburger. I ordered a cheeseburger with mayo, lettuce, pickles, grilled onions, grilled mushrooms, ketchup and mustard (this is the standard Five Guys "everything" or "all the way" only I asked them to hold the tomatoes). It was probably the best fast food burger I had ever eaten, and not only that, but it was probably the second or third best burger I've eaten in Fort Worth, and I've eaten at some of the most respected gourmet burger restaurants in the city. The burger was huge and dense and the meat tasted fantastic. The grilled onions, mushrooms, and pickles really complemented the taste.

As for french fries, there are two choices, Five Guys style or Cajun style. Both are fantastic. The Five Guys style fries are the ones that are pictured below, but I really think that the Cajun style fries are the best choice. All french fries are hand cut and cooked in peanut oil, but the Cajun style is covered in Cajun seasoning, and that's what makes the difference. Another thing that separates Five Guys from other burger restaurants is the huge serving sizes for the french fries. A regular sized fries is enough to feed two normal-sized people (or one and a half Justin Tiemeyers - I'm kind of a big dude), and though I don't know how many the large will feed, because I've never ordered one myself, I would imagine that it feeds one and a half Cloverfields.

I've been to Five Guys twice now, and I keep forgetting to order The Obama. While doing my research, I stumbled across an article where President Barack Obama was seen ordering burgers for him and his staff in a Washington DC Five Guys. I really enjoyed this article because it answered the question I would like to know if I saw President Obama at Five Guys, namely, what's Obama's favorite burger? To answer this question, the article explains that Obama prefers his Five Guys cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, jalapeno peppers and mustard. While I have yet to order The Obama, my friend Gabe managed to order one when I took him to Five Guys this week. He took one bite and told me that the burger tasted like change.

I never thought chain food could taste this good. Five Guys Burgers and Fries can be found in forty US states and five Canadian provinces. I can't vouch for every single location, but I can vouch for the following location(s):

Five Guys Burgers and Fries - Fishers
11670 Commercial Dr. Suite 600
Fishers, IN 46038

Five Guys Burgers and Fries - Hulen Corner

4833 S. Hulen Street

Fort Worth, TX 76132

The New Free Bird

How does Bob Saget play Purple Rain?
Justin Tiemeyer tells him to. That's how.

There is a measurable difference in awesomeness between me and your normal concert-goer. For example, I don't even think about leaving a concert until they raise the house lights and play somebody else's music on the house speakers. I don't get fooled by that whole "Thank you, good night!" charade.

More importantly, your normal rock fan still thinks it's cool to yell out "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" When these shouts arise I think to myself, "Fools! Have you no popular culture sensitivity?" After all, the 1992 film Wayne's World closed the book on shouting out "Stairway to Heaven," with the line, "No Stairway? Denied!" Similarly, the 2005 film The Devil's Rejects gave us the closure we've always been seeking for the tragic plight of Lynyrd Skynyrd when a gruesome gunfight arises to the tune of "Free Bird." (Kudos to Rob Zombie for not playing "Blaze of Glory" instead.) If you know your history, then you know it's not cool to yell out "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" at concerts anymore.

Unfortunately, however, there there is a kind of human need that is expressed in yelling stupid things to musicians at concerts. Just as there are checks and balances in the United States Constitution to prevent tyranny of one individual or group of individuals, yelling out "Stairway!" is a way of placing checks and balances on the possible tyrannical power of a performer. If it's no longer cool to yell out the names of these two classic songs, then how are we to regain our democratic right from these bullies up on stage? It was in response to this question and in light of my obsession with Prince that I began shouting out "Purple Rain!" at concerts.

"Purple Rain!" is golden. It's a song that everyone is familiar with. Just as importantly, it is still uncommon to hear as a request at a concert. That means it's still cool to shout it out. Every performer prepares a pat response to the inevitable "Stairway!" or "Free Bird!" But now there's a new level of measuring the coolness (and thus the power) of a performer: in all likelihood any given performer has not prepared for the "Purple Rain!" contingency, so if said performer can deal with this request in a cool and interesting way, this performer can be called cool.

* * *

Two nights before seeing Bob Saget I went to a Pete Yorn concert at the Dallas House of Blues. At this point I had been shouting out "Purple Rain!" at concerts for something over a year, and nobody had satisfied me with a really cool response. That night I requested the tune twice. The second time was with Pete Yorn himself, who didn't bat an eye at the request despite the fact that I was directly in front of him in the first row of general admission fans. The first time was with Yorn's opener, a young musician named Isaac Russell.

"Purple Rain!" I shouted. "Purple Rain?" Isaac Russell asked. "YEAH!" I shouted. Russell then proceeded to look from his guitar to his microphone and back for some thirty seconds, a look of mischief coming over him. Finally, as if he shook the devil off his shoulder, he said directly to me, "No. I'm not going to do that song."

Things did not look promising when I saw a live Bob Saget comedy set. For normal concerts, the general admission tickets admit one to the floor of the Dallas House of Blues. There are no chairs on the floor, and if you get to the House of Blues on time you can go right up to the front. At the Pete Yorn concert, a woman with a cheap admission ticket received Yorn's harmonica. He walked right up to her, kneeled down and placed it gently into her hands. For the Bob Saget show there were chairs on the floor, and these were the most expensive seats in the house. With general admission tickets we were pushed to the back toward the bar, an area loaded with pillars and douche bag college students to obstruct ones visual and auditory lock on Saget. I was fo far away from Saget that the Wayne's World line paraphrased itself in my mind: "No Purple Rain? Denied!"

To my surprise someone handed Bob Saget an acoustic guitar, and to me this was like some divine being handing me a second chance at greatness. My first chance at greatness was during a Justin Timberlake concert in Dallas a couple of years earlier. It was at this concert that I mastered surfing on the sound waves of the crowd. What I mean by this is that I was silent while the crowd was shouting, but just as soon as the crowd got to its quietest point waiting for Timberlake to speak, I'd shout something. I was against the back wall of the American Airlines Center, and in the relative silence I let out a lion's roar of a request: "DICK IN A BOX!" After about three requests Timberlake played a verse from this song: "Not gonna buy you a diamond ring / That sort of gift don't mean anything." Of course, his entire family was in the audience this night, so he looked up in the general direction of my hollering and asked, "Is it cool if I play another song?"

Saget was even more difficult than Timberlake. With Timberlake, I knew that he at least knew the words and tunr to the song I was requesting. Timberlake's concert, despite the screaming girls, had many more moments of silence. Bob Saget just keeps talking and talking, slinging insults at a rate that one begins to wonder if he needs to breathe. I found a silent moment, however, as he was adjusting the acoustic guitar on his lap. Taking advantage of this brief window of time I shouted, "PURPLE RAIN!" Saget's head stuck bolt upright and he said, "What?" I shouted again, "PURPLE RAIN!" Bob Saget began firing off questions. Had we ever met before? How old was I? Insult, insult, insult. I didn't catch all of it. But then he started strumming the chords that I know so well and singing that beautiful Prince tune. It went on for a verse and a chorus before he said, "This is a really long song," and stopped.

* * *

In the aftermath of living the greatest story ever told, I'm left with the question, "What's next?" Is there any point in requesting "Purple Rain!" if it'll never be more unique and insane than when it was performed by potty-mouthed comedian - not musician - Bob Saget? Ought I to move on to another song? And if so, what could compare? To paraphrase Prince: "Nothing compares 2 Purple Rain."

Though I'm largely in the dark as to how to respond to this situation, I know two things for certain. First, I know that there is some strange and dark Dickensian moment in the past that connects Bob Saget to the song Purple Rain, and I intend to find out more about this. Second, I know that there is still at least one person who might surprise me more than Saget doing "Purple Rain."

So, look out, Mr. President.

Pack your guitar, Mr. Barack Obama, because I'm coming at you with a personal request.

And it sure ain't "Free Bird!"

Barack Roll