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Burger King Has a Beef With the MTA

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The cheeseburger tasted a little funny, a little tough.

“They took a bite outta my ear,” Tommy Geas was saying to another customer. “But we’re goin’ 15 blanking rounds.”

Had I been served a Tyson special by accident?

An examination revealed a hunk of bacon I hadn’t ordered. At least I think it was bacon. My guess is that Tommy Geas, proprietor of the imperiled Bud’s Red Hots, threw it in, gratis, because he likes me, he really likes me. This semiretired actor thinks I helped turn him into a media monster--and it’s a role he seems to enjoy.

Only nine days have passed since I first reported Geas’ profanely defiant struggle against the Metropolitan Transportation Authority. Lately Geas has been on TV more than in his prime acting years playing tough guys on shows like “Mannix” and “Cannon.” Not only have TV news crews covered the story (bleeping when necessary), but radio deejays have interviewed him by phone while he’s been flipping burgers.

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Geas told me Monday that he hasn’t heard a peep lately from MTA officials. If I were them, I’d wait till the media moves on to something else too.

The MTA, which wants to move Bud’s as part of Metro Rail construction, says it has made Geas a very reasonable offer to help him relocate his business. Geas, officials say, has been resistant even though the MTA is his landlord and, under the terms of his lease, could legally evict him at virtually no cost to taxpayers.

Why, MTA officials almost had me feeling guilty about giving ink to a man they consider an ingrate. Then I remembered just how poorly the MTA handles our money.

Exactly what round they’re in is unclear, but Geas isn’t going down easy. The press coverage has helped him sell cheeseburgers and gather allies for his cause, ranging from the fierce Soup Nazi of “Seinfeld” to a political activist who once tried to have a Studio City carwash declared a cultural heritage landmark.

The activist, Valley Village resident Jack McGrath, has coached Geas in his dealings with politicians and the press.

“Dear Mayor Riordan,” begins a July 7 letter Geas wrote at McGrath’s suggestion. “. . . My establishment, Bud’s Red Hots, has been serving made-to-order food since 1926. My establishment believes in personal, one-on-one service just like your ‘Pantry’ does in downtown Los Angeles.”

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Geas and McGrath have some political shtick planned for Wednesday. Customers’ letters protesting the MTA are to be faxed from Bud’s to the mayor’s office.

The claim that Bud’s, under another name, dates to 1926 may be hyperbolic. Records go back to 1946, but Geas wonders if his building used to be attached to the old Southern Pacific station next door.

Tommy Geas’ tale didn’t just touch a media nerve. Several readers sent letters and e-mail that offered a range of reaction. (A couple corrected my spelling of his ex-wife’s name, actress Nita Talbot.)

Actor Larry Thomas counts himself a Bud’s man. “I always tell people about his place when they’re looking for a good burger.” Thomas noted that although he has never raped a nun on TV like Geas, he did portray the Soup Nazi, who routinely tossed customers out of his diner: “Who knows, maybe that’s why I identify with Tommy.”

Another reader, who requested anonymity, wanted to let me know he didn’t care for the burgers at Bud’s or my decision to write about the burger stand. This reader said he dropped by Bud’s just once and would not return.

Suffice it to say that the verbal abuse Geas serves with his food is not appreciated by everyone. “Not only was it not the best hamburger in the Valley, let alone L.A., it was the greasiest from L.A. to New York City. . . .

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“Why glorify profanity, rudeness, bad taste and food that’s deleterious? Two separate icons of a much more salutary nature just left us: Mr. Stewart & Mr. Kuralt. What would they make of this piece?”

Beats me, but the guess here is that Mr. Kuralt always liked this kind of story, and probably liked cheeseburgers too.

Linda Altman DeMarco, meanwhile, offered a nostalgic, bittersweet reaction. Her father, you see, was the original, genuine Bud. Geas acquired the burger stand after her father’s death 20 years ago and seemed to adopt some of Bud’s approach as well.

Her father’s personality, DeMarco explained, was a kind of hybrid of Don Rickles and a military drill instructor, but he was a “mensch” at heart.

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“People put up with this abusive type of personality only because they knew his sarcasm meant endearment. . . .

“If ever he would have been interviewed by someone like you, I can assure you he wouldn’t have had to be bleeped out.”

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DeMarco also said her father, unlike Tommy Geas, “would have never fought progress.”

Geas remembers the original Bud fondly from the 1960s and early ‘70s, when Geas was a loyal customer.

Bud, he says, would see him walking up and sarcastically say something like, “Oh, here comes that spear carrier from ‘Ben-Hur.’ ”

Actually, Geas wasn’t in “Ben-Hur.” It was just a Hollywood put-down, accusing an actor of being an extra.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times’ Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com Please include a phone number.

Geas isn’t going down easy. The coverage has helped him sell cheeseburgers and gather allies, like the activist who tried to have a carwash declared a landmark.

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