EppsNet Archive: In-N-Out Burger

Lightning, 2003-2017

1 Apr 2017 /

Lightning alert

Lightning sleepy

We got Lightning as a Xmas present for our boy in 2003.

Things we learn from dogs:

  • Unconditional love
  • Nothing lasts forever

Later in life, Lightning lost most of the use of his back legs. He had to drag them a little when he tried to walk. He couldn’t jump anymore and couldn’t go up or down the stairs but he never complained about that.

He also lost his eyesight. Never complained about that either. He never got sad or frustrated when he occasionally walked into a wall or a piece of furniture. He had a good mental map of the house and didn’t need or want help to get around.

Last year, the vet thought he might have a leaky heart valve but that turned out not to be the case. His heart was invincible all the way.

The only thing he ever got sad about was toward the end, he didn’t like to be alone. He whimpered if I was in the house and he couldn’t be wherever I was. He couldn’t be fooled on this. He could smell when I was anywhere in the house.

My wife and I were with him all the way to the end. I didn’t cry until afterwards.

Last meal: In-N-Out cheeseburger and a pup cup from Starbucks.

He would probably like to be remembered like this . . . a video of a family trip to the beach when we were all more or less in our prime . . .

RIP Lightning


The Aliens Have Landed in Irvine

8 Sep 2013 /

It’s about one in the afternoon at the Irvine In-N-Out Burger. A guy who looks to be in his early 20s comes in wearing a backward baseball cap, dark sunglasses (which he never removes) and — despite a temperature in the high 80s — a pullover sweater.

Aliens

To simplify the storytelling, let’s call this guy Alf.

Alf waits in line, places his order, then immediately walks over and stands in front of the pickup counter. The place is packed, and I can tell from looking at the number on my own ticket that there are about 10 more orders ahead of me, and since I ordered before him, there are about 15 more orders ahead of Alf, so there’s no reason for him to be standing at — in fact, leaning on — the pickup counter.

After a few moments, the kid at the pickup counter asks Alf what his number is.

“Eleven,” Alf replies.

“OK, we’re calling numbers in the 90s, so it’s going to be a few more minutes.”

Alf then sits down on a bench to the left of the pickup counter, where he waits patiently until they call order number 6, which happens to be my number, at which time Alf asks the kid at the counter if his order is ready yet. It’s the same kid he talked to before, and the kid knows Alf’s number is 11, so he says, “No, not yet.”

When the alien invasion come to your town, you will know them by the following signs:

  1. Inappropriate attire, e.g., sweaters in a heat wave, dark glasses indoors, caps on backwards . . . no, scratch that last one. Some Earthlings do that too.
  2. Ignorance of the most basic social scenarios, like how to order and pick up fast food.
  3. Inability to count.