I arrived at the new Shake Shack (along that corridor across from the Goldman Sachs building, where Lili’s and the pizza place were) at 10:45 a.m., when an employee meeting was still going on; several diners were already inside anyway, waiting in line. By 11 a.m., the line was way out the door. Considering this is the sixth one in the city, the demand is impressive.

I’ve been to the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park two times, and I liked it well enough, but I’m far from an aficionado—I don’t like waiting, and I hardly ever eat meat anymore. I could see making a (medium!) rare exception for a Shake Shack burger, the way I’ll do for an In-N-Out one, and I thought I probably should, if only to write about it. Then I realized I probably wouldn’t be returning until the lines go way down, which could be years from now. So I got the ‘Shroom Burger, cheese fries, and a chocolate shake. I suppose I ought to have ordered one of the three concretes unique to this outpost, but they didn’t sound all that good.

The guys ahead of me each ordered eight or nine burgers each—there’s a ten-per-customer limit—which may have been why my order took almost 15 minutes to be ready (you’re given one of those suburban buzzers to hold—as much as I don’t like them, they’re better than waiting in a scrum). As I waited, I complained to myself about the far-too-loud music, thanked the Flying Spaghetti Monster for the seven TVs not working yet, admired the open doors of the room, dodged the photographers covering the opening, marveled at the line (by now stretching to Murray Street), and watched junior corporate types fill umpteen plastic containers with mustard and ketchup to take back up to the office. I think the food is only part of the Shake Shack allure; there’s a joviality, sort of like at a Disney park, that’s incredibly refreshing, especially in the fast-food world. There’s a cuteness, too, which is a little less palatable now that Shake Shack is a full-fledged chain.

As for the food, the shake was excellent—I had a McDonald’s one the other day, thinking it would be a treat, when it gave me a stomachache for hours. (What’s in those things?) The cheese fries were pretty weak. I don’t prefer crinkle-cut fries anyway, and my guess is that Shake Shack uses real cheese, which should be noble and praiseworthy, but there wasn’t much flavor and the cheese disintegrates (leaving a puddle of watery liquid in the bottom of the tray, ruining the fries that weren’t beglooped). I’ve never had a veggie burger before, so the fact that I enjoyed the ‘Shroom Burger—a portobello mushroom stuffed with cheese, the whole thing breaded and deep-fried—could be meaningless. Next time, if I remember a year or two from now, I’ll get it with pickles, because something has to cut the richness. Actually, a beer would help. Shake Shack is waiting for its liquor license; when it gets it, there will be beer and wine (including Prosecco), by the glass and the bottle.

P.S. Single women on the prowl (for a lover and/or tech help) might want to consider it a new hangout.

P.P.S. Eater has more on the decor.

Shake Shack is at 215 Murray Street (between West St. and North End Ave.), 646-545-4600; it’s open from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. seven days a week.