My first job (that didn’t involve working for my dad) was in 1969, at Rusty’s Hamburger Drive-In, a local knockoff of McDonald’s. I mean, where else could a teenager earn US$1.25 an hour and come home smelling like overused fry oil?
I can still remember the assistant manager insisting I really, really needed to hear this new song, Communication Breakdown. Hamburger joints were ubiquitous when I was a kid. I’ve always been a regular consumer, even though I no longer have to worry about smelling like hamburger grease even after I shower.