Deep Thoughts … about Chipotle

  • Why, at 8:00 at night, is the goddamn Chipotle line still out the door? My blood sugar is probably about 70 right now and there’s a pretty good chance I might not survive the wait. But, if I get back in the car and go somewhere else, I’m also probably going to die. Eff it, I’ll just tough it out. 20 people have walked in behind me so if I bail now and decide to un-bail, that’s 20 more people in front of me.
  • At least 3/4 of the people on the food line have spacers in their ears. This grosses me out. I “dated” a guy who had huge spacers in his earlobes and it somewhat repulsed me. I still “dated” him. The one time. And then I broke it off because he was a crazy straight edge and he also said he was in love with me after one day. And the spacers didn’t help his case.
  • My husband hates Chipotle because he thinks that hipsters like it. Yes, that is his entire reason that he hates Chipotle. Don’t ask me.
  • People who call it “Chipolte” (pronounced Chi POLE tay)
  • People who think they’re being funny when they pronounce it like “Chi POT ul”
  • The a-hole who orders six burritos. I hate that guy.
  • That onion, though.
  • Your last bite of meat is almost always skeevy.
  • Guac is extra, in case you didn’t know! But $2 extra for a big thwack! of guac just doesn’t seem right. That only looks like about 75 cents worth.
  • Seriously. It’s tomorrow and the onion is still with me. Every time I burp, I taste it. Despite the gum, Altoids and basically any food I can think of to try to cover the taste of onion, it prevails. The onion has won. “So, don’t order onion,” you say. HOW? I ask. It’s in the corn salsa. Little flecks of purple rancid onion. It cannot be avoided. Because listen, I am not giving up the corn salsa. The corn salsa is everything.

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