Jack Brown’s Detour

You end up at Jack Brown’s, lured by the promise of a burger topped with peanut butter and washed down with a local craft beer. The neon lights buzz faintly, and the place is already jammed — wall to wall with people shouting over the music.

The playlist is pure 90s alt-rock. The Offspring crashes into Nirvana, followed by a deep cut no one admits to liking but everyone still knows by heart. It’s loud enough that you can feel the bass thump in your chest, but not quite loud enough to drown out the conversations at the next table.

At the bar, a stranger with a beard that could conceal a family of wrens leans toward his friends and loudly proclaims: “This is the best hidden gem in town!”

You look around at the crowd, the line at the door, and the server hustling past with a tray of peanut butter burgers — and wonder if words mean anything anymore.

The crowd is eclectic but predictable: grad students ordering IPAs with too many syllables, construction workers demolishing burgers after a long shift, and one guy who looks suspiciously like your landlord.

You’re wedged into a small booth, the menu in your hands. The decision lies before you like fate itself.

Do you:

• Order the burger with peanut butter 

• Play it safe with something normal