Jim's is a car-cult burger joint, a plain and simple throwback. It has no drive-thru. No neon. No chrome. No affectation whatsoever. This is a burger shack that doesn't pretend to be anything else, showing its age proudly in every scuffed table, grease-stained ceiling tile and crooked Little League photo hung on the walls alongside the faded custom-hot-rod snaps. The menu is so basic, the only thing you'll have to decide is how hungry you are: You can order your burger with single, double or triple meat.