We want more stuff like this: To get to the place where they like George W. Bush more than any other place in America, you fly west for a long time from Washington, then you drive north for a long time from Salt Lake City, and then you pull into Gator’s Drive Inn, where the customer at the front of the line is ordering a patty melt.
“Patty melts! No one makes patty melts anymore,” she is saying to the counterman, Ryan Louderman, who knew she wasn’t local as soon as he heard the sound of a car being locked. “Can I get it without onions?” she says. “And can I get mustard? On the side? Dijon mustard?”
“I don’t think we have Dijon mustard,” says Louderman, who is 15 and would have voted for Bush if he could have. “I think we only have regular mustard.” But he writes it down anyway and gives the order to Pat Orton, the owner and cook.
“No onions? With mustard?” says Orton, who voted for Bush in 2004 and 2000. “Oh, God, we get some weird ones”
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