a color story: P. Terry teal

In the vicinity of the hotel, west of the intersection at Martin Luther King Road and Guadalope, there stood fast-food drive-thru joints. Starting off, “Raising Canes”, known for their Chicken Fingers, the existence of this business rooted in a simple children's snack left me puzzled. How many chicken fingers combos do they have to sell even with their well designed drive-thru operation? I was skeptical but hey, maybe their chicken fingers were that great. I could imagine a van full of hungry kids screaming for Cane’s chicken fingers while stressing the Mom to newer heights.

Next, a Chick-Fil-A stood with a running oil machine. Lines constantly build up both the counter and the drive-thru. Later on, I discovered that they didn’t have an interior. Their patio was the only dining option. The engine took up too much of the hood.

Then, P. Terry. With its teal-dominated design and interesting choice of architectural decisions, one didn’t know whether it was an artificial Hollywood set or a place to grab fast food. With stiff competition and placed at the end of the row of pretty drive-thrus, one could only think why even existing neighboring a Chick-Fil-A. I contemplated making a visit. 

After a late-night walk and absorbing the energy of 6th street, I noticed the architectural decision with their fancy umbrella pillars at P. Terry’s. The teal colors beamed out like a lantern. Like Gatsby reaching out to the green light towards the opposing lakeshore, I, too, reached out like Decaprio. The teal light, I saw you.

I committed to a P. Terry’s lunch. I slowly started to notice the obstacle facing pedestrians. The stoplights may be well designed for their lack of presence on the roads. The fast-food destinations wanted to focus on the drive-thru rather than the in-person interaction. I would do the same if your low margin depended on volume. Crossing the light as a pedestrian, I felt a tension, a sense of non-belonging. Maybe this feeling rooted in the lack of pedestrians or the drivers had a lack of patience for pedestrians in this part of Austin.

Nope, I passed on the Chicken Fingers and Chick-Fil-A. Finally, inside, P. Terry’s oddly embodied a similar space, and business model but with a different color. P. Terry’s was an In and Out but in teal. Huh. How do you mix teal from red, just a splash of green? Cha-ching?

The obvious menu resembled “In and Out” and it brought a familiarity to the ordering process. From a consumer side point, it was the same story, just a different color. “1 double cheeseburger, please. No combo. Just the burger” I requested.

Sitting at the square table, trying to mind my own business, I couldn’t help but listen to the construction workers discussing their work-life balance. In their own construction-like ways, short statements, witty, non-fussy, their conversation accompanied my wait. Soon as I was detected listening, one let out a comment about quitting his job in a remark just so he could be part of a movement. #MeToo or #thebigresignation

I blushed and grinned. I wasn’t execrating a standup show. But, the “boys” knew he would never do that. It was just a passive tactic for a raise. Their bond seemed to be strong because a person who really does quit was usually quiet about it. The quiet ones were the ones to watch out for. There was none of that passive aggression.

Could this be a place where the blue-collar worked? The teal color could have matched their Mikuta gear but it was a far stretch. Maybe the air conditioning, the accessibility to parking, and the simple meals were what they wanted. With a small sample size of 1 visit, I got the impression that it was a place of socializing and relaxation rather than a tourist attraction.

“Order for Soy!”

They butchered my name like a Starbucks barista who went through a bad breakup. I couldn’t complain. This video-driven Starbucks culture phenomenon has never actually happened to me at a Starbucks or maybe ever. With another grin on my face, I went to the counter.

The burger was a burger. The meat was probably fresh. The bun was probably toasty. The cheese probably melted. But, there were no onions. No celebrity endorsement. No story that I was following. P. Terry was like the jealous cousin of In’N’Out and the forced family reunion setting was a vibe.