"It's a Saturday. Dark out. A misty rain sprinkles on your windshield. All this scene dressing is making you hungry, and Google Maps has you covered. You're feeling particularly American today, so a burger joint is sure to satisfy.Minutes later, you pull up in front of Blue Collar and park your car.You're not too sure if this is the right spot.The exterior screams auto shop more than it does restaurant, but a small sign above the door confirms that this is indeed the place you're looking for.The inside of the establishment is somehow even more confusing than the outside. There are chairs and tables but also a broken closet and a high ceiling. This place feels part bedroom, part abandoned storage unit. The familiar menu, front counter, and food iconography are the only things keeping you from running far away.Sticking around is the right choice, as you'll soon find out, but the guy at the front counter isn't helping matters much. He's doing all the normal cashier stuff but somehow can't get out of this uncanny valley of customer service. It's weird. Feels like he's a robot doing his best impression of a McDonald's employee.You definitely don't plan on dining in, so you practically sprint out the door with your order when it's ready. Didn't have to wait too long and the price was pretty reasonable. So far, so good.The meal turns out to be a winner as well. With how good this double cheeseburger tastes, it's easy for you to forgive this place for forgetting the bacon. They went overkill on the pickles but that's a quick fix. The fries are icing on the cake; the portion is huge and the seasoning they put on is perfect, even if you think they went a little light on it.After wrapping up your meal, you can't help feeling pleasantly surprised. In spite of its weird looks, Blue Collar is an instant candidate for your go-to spots for late night grub. Hopefully they remember the bacon next time."
