**In-N-Out Fans Are Losing Their Sh*t Over New Locations, and Honestly, It’s Peak First World Problems**
Look, I get it. We’re living through the hellscape of 2024, where the price of eggs has become a cryptid-level mystery, housing is a fever dream, and the planet is slowly turning into a rotisserie chicken. But don’t worry, America. In-N-Out Burger—the Holy Grail of fast food for people who think a single, sad lettuce leaf constitutes “fresh produce”—has just announced a new wave of locations. And, predictably, the internet is losing its collective goddamn mind.
The chain dropped the news that they’re expanding into—wait for it—Washington state and possibly, *if the stars align and the ghost of Harry Snyder wills it*, Idaho. Cue the sound of a thousand California transplants weeping into their cardboard-flavored burgers from Shake Shack. The announcement has already triggered a diaspora of takes on Reddit, Twitter (sorry, X, you’re still a dumpster fire), and Nextdoor, where Boomers are arguing about whether the new In-N-Out will ruin the “character” of their strip-mall parking lots.
But let’s be real: In-N-Out is the most overhyped cult in America that doesn’t involve drinking Kool-Aid. I said what I said. Calm down, Karen. Yes, the Double-Double is a solid 7/10 burger. Yes, the animal-style fries are a greasy, heart-attack-inducing masterpiece that tastes like regret and salt. But the way people act like In-N-Out is the second coming of Thomas Jefferson’s cheeseburger is unhinged. It’s fast food. It’s good fast food. But it’s not a religious experience. It’s a burger that costs $4.50 and gives you the runs if you look at it wrong.
So why is everyone losing their marbles over a few new drive-thrus in the Pacific Northwest? Oh, right, because America has no real problems left to solve, so we’ve decided to turn a family-owned burger chain into a geopolitical event. The new locations are slated for places like Tacoma and Spokane, which, let’s be honest, are basically the armpits of Washington. But locals are already prepping their “I survived the In-N-Out opening” t-shirts, as if waiting 45 minutes for a hamburger is the same as surviving a natural disaster.
The real AITA moment here is the reaction from the “In-N-Out is life” crowd. They’ve already started gatekeeping the expansion. “Oh, you think you’re ready for In-N-Out, Idaho? You can’t handle the spread,” they say, as if animal-style sauce is some kind of test of character. Meanwhile, actual Idahoans are like, “Bitch, we have potatoes. We know what good food is. Your burger is fine.” It’s giving “I’m a gatekeeping hipster who peaked in 2015 when I first tried a 3x3.”
And don’t even get me started on the “secret menu” discourse. Every single person who posts about In-N-Out feels the need to announce they’re ordering “animal-style, protein-style, with extra whole grilled onions and a side of Neapolitan shake.” Bro, you ordered a burger wrapped in lettuce. You didn’t crack the Da Vinci Code. It’s not a secret. It’s on the fucking menu. The only secret is how they manage to make their fries taste like cardboard even when they’re fresh. That’s the real mystery.
But back to the locations: The expansion is a big deal because In-N-Out is famously allergic to growth. They’ve been slowly creeping across the Southwest like a delicious, grease-stained glacier. They’ve avoided the East Coast like it’s a plague of bland, overpriced chain restaurants (which, to be fair, it mostly is). So when they finally decide to bless Washington with their presence, it’s a big deal. It’s like when your weird uncle finally leaves the basement and shows up to Thanksgiving. You’re happy to see him, but you also know he’s going to say something racist within five minutes.
The economics of this are also kind of hilarious. In-N-Out pays their workers well—like, actually well. Starting wages are around $18-$20 an hour in some markets, which is basically a unicorn in the fast-food industry. So when they open a new location, it’s not just a burger joint; it’s a beacon of hope in a sea of minimum-wage misery. But let’s not pretend it’s altruism. They do it because they have a cult-like corporate culture that requires employees to be weirdly happy and recite the menu like a prayer. It’s basically a fast-food version of a megachurch, but with fewer baptisms and more cheese.
The backlash from the “keep it local” crowd is also peak Reddit. You’ve got people on r/Seattle posting things like, “We don’t need In-N-Out. We have Dick’s Drive-In.” Yeah, Dick’s is good. Dick’s is also a 1950s time capsule where you pay in cash and the burgers are the size of a coaster. It’s not the same. Stop pretending you’re a food snob because you like a greasy bag of sliders from a joint that doesn’t accept credit cards. You’re not a purist; you’re just inconvenient.
And then there’s the inevitable “CA vs. WA” beef. Every transplant from California is going to act like they’ve been personally betrayed by the expansion. “I moved to Olympia to get away from the crowds, and now you’re bringing the #5 combo to my doorstep? Unacceptable.” Meanwhile, locals are like, “Bro, you brought your avocado toast obsession and your Prius. You don’t get to complain about a burger chain.”
The funniest part? The first week of
Final Thoughts
Having covered the expansion strategies of fast-food giants for years, it’s striking to see In-N-Out’s stubborn commitment to strategic, quality-controlled growth rather than the frantic race for market saturation that has doomed so many rivals. For the loyal customer, this means the thrill of a new location is still a genuine event—a rare, premium experience rather than just another drive-thru on the corner. Ultimately, their slow burn approach isn't just smart business; it’s a masterclass in preserving brand mystique in an age of instant gratification.