He never thought he’d flip burgers for a living.
But they sure did - the nuns at school. Who labeled him “rebel.”
The year is 1986.
And Jerry Murrell (JM) is still a rebel. And pretty bad at it.
He’s started three companies. And all three have failed.
Oil. Real estate…Water bottles? (He’s great at buying high and selling low).
His biggest problem - he isn’t doing what he’s best at.
Until Five Guys.
JM equates his grill to the Holy Grail and opens a burger joint as a testament to barbecue.
Specifically - in the boondocks of Northern Virginia. He figures - if customers come, he must be onto something (he is).
JM sources the best ingredients. He blindfolds his boys and polls what input of pickles, mayonnaise, and buns output the perfect burger, regardless of price.
He gives his four boys a choice.
“Start a business or go to college.” With a name like “Five Guys,” you can probably guess their choice.
When the Pentagon calls and asks for delivery, JM hangs a 22 foot long banner that reads, “Absolutely no deliveries.” And another that reads, “If you’re in a hurry, there are a lot of really good hamburger places within a short distance from here.” (rebel)
It’s casual dining meets fast food.
The average burger takes 5 to 10 minutes to make. And all their potatoes come from Idaho (makes the best fries).
The year is 2002.
And JM’s franchise-averse mindset handicaps his ability to grow past five joints.
His sons convince him otherwise - they buy him Franchising for Dummies. (Yes, the book).
It works. By 2020, there are nearly 1500 chains. (And hey, Shaq owns 155).
It isn’t cheap shipping fresh buns across the country.
Or signing an exclusive contract with Heinz for extra-thick mayo. But that’s what makes the best burger.
And JM is in the business of making the best burger.
So take one from Jerry Murrell. We all get burnt. It takes resilience to handle the heat.
And that’s the skinny.
Yum