In-N-Out Stuns Fans with Controversial Announcement After 75 Years: A Bold Move of Genius

Few brands have the loyal following of In-N-Out Burger. If you live outside of California, it’s hard to really understand just how beIoved the brand is among its fans. If you live in California, it’s just a part of the experience. Until you leave, that is.
Most of that love comes from the fact that, as far as fast food goes, In-N-Out is about as good as it gets. Of course, a lot of its appeal also comes from the fact that the company’s 385 locations are located almost entirely in California and its neighboring states.

If, however, you live any further east of the Rockies, you’ve been out of luck. If that’s you, your only opportunity has been to find one when you travel west. Well, until now.
Last week, the company announced that it would be opening a corporate hub in Franklin, Tennessee, which will allow it to expand further east. In-N-Out also says it will be opening its first stores in the Nashville area by 2026.
If you’re a fan of animal-style fries, you understand that this is a big deal. It’s also a huge risk for the company and its brand. Here’s why:

This is a company that is fiercely opposed to change. It hasn’t added a menu item since 2018 (hot chocolate). It still sells just burgers, fries, soft drinks, and milkshakes. As a result, the restaurant is known for both fresh, great-tasting food and incredible customer service. I can think of only one other restaurant where you can get in a drive-thru line 30 cars deep and still have hot food in just a few minutes, and that one isn’t open on Sundays.
There is clearly a lot of demand for new locations. That seems like an argument for expanding to new states, but it’s also why the move is risky.

You see, over the past 75 years, In-N-Out has jeaIously guarded its brand. A big part of that has meant recognizing that fast growth isn’t everything if it means compromising quality. After all, quality is its brand.
In-N-Out only uses fresh, never-frozen ingredients–including its beef. That makes its burgers and fries taste better, but it also means the restaurant is limited in the areas it can serve.
The company also doesn’t franchise its locations. That has allowed it to maintain far more control over the level of service its restaurants provide, but has also meant it kept things close to home.
“You put us in every state and it takes away some of its luster,” said In-N-Out president Lynsi Snyder in a 2018 interview. She was right. Part of the reason the company’s burgers have such a loyal following is because they’re hard to get–especially if you live east of the Rocky Mountains.

It takes a lot of courage–if you think about it–to resist the temptation to grow at all costs. The thing is, most companies don’t consider that those costs are real, even if they aren’t immediately obvious. If the quaIity of your product gets worse the more customers you serve, you’re doing it wrong.
If, suddenly, there are In-N-Out Burger locations everywhere, it’s not as special. If you’re used to swinging by the Sepulvida location when you land at Los Angeles International Airport, and eating a Double-Double while watching planes land, it’s not quite as special an experience if you can get one on your way home from work.

On the other hand, there is value in meeting your customers where they are. In-N-Out is a restaurant, after all, not an amusement park. Sure, people look forward to eating there when they travel, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room to grow–even if that means cautiously.

“Our Customers are our most important asset at In-N-Out, and we very much look forward to serving them in years to come, and becoming part of the wonderfuI communities in The Volunteer State,” said Synder in a statement. That’s an important acknowledgment–the part about customers being the company’s most important asset.

The interesting lesson here is that there is a balance between exclusivity and meeting your customers where they are. For a variety of reasons, In-N-Out has erred on the side of sticking close to home, even if that means it can’t serve all of its customers. That’s been a winning strategy so far, and I don’t think that will change just because it’s sIowly starting to open more locations farther east.

I Opened a Mysterious Door in My Cellar—Now I Regret Everything

I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.

You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.

When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.

In the back corner, we found something even stranger: an old wooden chest, covered in dust and cobwebs. It was locked, but the lock seemed weak, like it could easily break. Florence begged me to leave it alone, but I was too curious. I forced it open, and what I saw made my heart race.

Inside were old documents, letters written in a language I didn’t understand, and something wrapped in a faded cloth. When I unwrapped it, I froze. It was a small, strange object that didn’t belong in this world. Florence screamed and ran out of the cellar, terrified.

I should have followed her, but I was too deep into it. I put everything back in the chest and closed the door, but the feeling that something had changed wouldn’t leave me. Since that day, things have been different. Strange noises, cold drafts, and shadows moving where they shouldn’t.

Now, I regret opening that door. Florence refuses to go back into the cellar, and I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know what we uncovered, but I fear we’ve let something into our home that we can’t control. Every day, I wish I had just left the door hidden behind the wallpaper, where it belonged.

Now, the cellar remains locked. I’ve sealed the door with heavy boards, hoping that will keep whatever we disturbed at bay. Florence refuses to go near it, and our once happy home feels suffocating with the tension between us. It’s like the house itself has changed, like it’s watching us.

At night, I hear whispers coming from the floor below. I try to convince myself it’s just the wind or my imagination, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. The object I found in the chest haunts my thoughts—I’ve hidden it away, but it’s like it calls to me. Florence says I need to get rid of it, but I’m too afraid to touch it again.

I tried contacting the previous owners, but they didn’t know anything about the hidden room. They had lived here briefly before selling the house. No one in the neighborhood seems to know its history, and records of the house are vague. It’s like this part of the house was meant to stay forgotten.

I keep telling myself everything will be fine if I just leave it alone, but the strange occurrences are getting worse. Lights flicker, doors creak open on their own, and sometimes, I catch glimpses of something moving in the dark corners. It feels like the house is alive—angry that we disturbed its secret.

Florence is talking about moving, and maybe she’s right. But part of me knows that whatever we let out, whatever we disturbed, might not stay behind. And now, I wonder if sealing that door was just the beginning of something far more terrifying.