Chipotle Cravings or Bathroom Breaks
A gentle breeze rustles me awake. I know not how long it has been since I made my way into the archives, I only know that my stomach grumbles in protest of my unintentional fast. As the wind rustles the cobwebs from the doorway, I catch the scent of Mexican food and my body begins moving involuntarily. Almost as if drawn to my destination by it’s own free will, I set out to find the source of the magnificent aroma and stumble into..
If this means nothing to you... get out.
It’s kind of like a craving for Cheez-Its or Sprite. Once you get it in your mind that you need a crispity, crunchy cheesy cracker snack or a thirst-quenching lemon-lime fizzy drink, simply nothing else will do. People may offer you a box of Cheese Nips or a Sierra Mist Free to subside your cravings, but those people should be banished to the far corners of Agrabah for all time for their treachery.
Seriously, don’t offer me CHEESE NIPS. Or tell me they taste the same. They don’t.
However, a craving for Chipotle is a unique thing. You know exactly what you are getting yourself into, you may not even be hungry, and yet it’s almost like there is an evil llama forcing you to make way to Chipotle.
EXTRA MEAT! Baphomet commands it!
You have mentally and physically prepared yourself and accepted the consequences that come with a burrito. There is an entire emotional rollercoaster that comes with a journey into the Mexican grilled paradise. This blog is a chronicling of such.
Parking Lot: There it is, shining in the darkness. The only part left of your pre-Chipotle journey is to cross the parking lot and breach the glass doors where, held inside, awaits the mixin’s, fixin’s, and desire that fuels a Chipotle. Take a step into the building, close your eyes & take a deep breath, soak in the sounds and smells and open your eyes to see…
Inner Doorway/Line:
I gotta wait how long...?
A line. Yeah, if you manage to get to Chipotle and end up getting your Mexican delicacy without playing any sort of waiting game, go get a lottery ticket because that just plain doesn’t happen. Part of the Chipotle game is seeing how long of a line it takes to make you say, “Screw it, I’m getting Chinese.” The line moves fast, but when you walk into the store only to be standing half in, half out due to overcrowding, you may have to re-think things. In a blur of toppings and rice, you suddenly find yourself at the…
Cashpoint:
“My inner turmoil in video form.”
The following cannot be said lightly. It doesn’t matter if they have it wrapped, ready to go, drink set up, chips on the house with a side of guac: the time between finishing your burrito, and paying/receiving your burrito WILL feel like an eternity. All you can do is barely mumble out a thank you or a half-assed apology for acting like a crack head as you are overpowered with anticipation for your soon to occur consumption. The only thing that matters is you getting your lips around that tortilla and ripping it to shreds. But first, some Sprite in a water cup because nobody cares; this is between you and the burrito now. As you sit down at the…
Table: A sigh of relief escapes your quivering lips as your monstrosity sits before you. It’s like staring out into Middle Earth before you take your first steps to Mordor; you’re afraid to start, because you know you won’t be able to stop. Worse than a can of Pringles, the “can’t stop” side effect of a Chipotle is a powerful force to be treated with caution. Many have fallen in it’s wake of destruction. We mourn their passing by spilling a drop of tobasco in their honor. Sometimes you can feel sick, or full to the point of explosion…
Immediately after devouration:
I didn't even know they came in that size, Merry.
A combination of shame and pride washes over you as your body shudders in response to your massive attack of south-of-the-border amazingness. You will find yourself shocked with your ability to perform even the simplest of functions with three pounds of warm Mexican goodness lumped into your stomach. As your innards relocate to find room for remains of the rice based onslaught, your consciousness creeps away and your find yourself slipping into a…
Chicoma:
Chicomas strike at any time. Be prepared with a travel rug.
Here it is. This is, arguably the best part of Chipotle minus actually enjoying the food. The Chicoma is: “the state of uncontrollable relaxation one experiences immediately following consumption of a Chipotle product. It is unavoidable.” Challenged only by the slumber that follows a hearty Thanksgiving dinner, a Chicoma is a force of nature that spares no man or woman. It moves rapidly, quickly ticking off the moments until you finally succumb to the power of the burrito, waking up confused two hours later with the television blaring repeats of Home Improvement with Tim Allen. That is not something to be proud or ashamed of, that is simply how things work out from time to time. Tool Time, that is. Perhaps we shall discuss the Chicoma in greater detail in future Fwaah posts as it deserves much investigation. Once you wake from your ricey slumber, you have approximately negative five minutes to get to the…
Bathroom:
The face of Chipotle regret.
Unavoidable, shameful, remorse is the only emotion allowed post-Chipotle. As you curse the food gods for raining down hellfire of poo, you wonder if Cal’s up to grabbing a quick burrito bowl… you know he is.
P.S.
Also, here’s the coolest thing you’ll see today. Hands down. If you see something else that is cooler, post in the comments because I just don’t believe ya buddy. Wind!
fwaah.
-a
what the fwaah? 