A few years back, it was the "hip" new thing. Now, it seems to be fully ingrained into our very beings.
Ah, Chipotle.
I think I was literally the last person in America to hop on the Chipotle bandwagon. My friends always went. Even my family couldn't stop going. But I always opted for the always-nearby Panera instead, hiding behind the "Oh, I don't really like Mexican food." excuse. That was a fat lie. The fattest lie. I was in denial. I did the same thing when Mac Miller got popular in 2011.
When I finally caved in and invested in my first burrito, my life was changed. And thus began the obsession. But a Chipotle addiction doesn't come without signs and symptoms, though. Fellow members of Chipotle Addicts Anonymous, this one is for you.
1. You've had strange, vivid dreams. About burritos.
When you wake up craving the squishy deliciousness of pinto beans, the taste of toothpaste is a serious let-down.
2. You can't seem to concentrate on anything else in the morning.
I have been sexually fantasizing about the chubbiest, spiciest, most scrumptious burrito in the entire world since six o'clock this morning, and you expect me to wait until my lunch hour to be satisfied? And be mindfully present enough to complete tasks? Cruel.
3. You experience some hyper-salivation when lunchtime is near.
My subconscious mind knows that I'm about to have delicious things in my mouth pretty soon, and it has communicated with my brain. My brain has responded by causing this weird "drooling" phenomenon... It's an automatic response.
4. Your heart starts racing sometimes. Usually when you run at the speed of sound to your car when lunch hour begins.
12:00 PM comes and I am off, like The freaking FLASH. I may be dying now, and I've realized how painfully out-of-shape I truly am, but I need every moment to savor that burrito. I can cry while I eat.
5. You experience chronic impatience while waiting in the line.
Especially at lunch time, Chipotle lines can be, well, absolutely f**king horrific. Watching everybody in front of you be graced with their food is a slow, painful form of torture. Do yourself a favor and download the Chipotle app. You can order your meal ahead of time, decide when you want to pick it up, and skip the entire line once you get there. It's heavenly. Thank me later.
6. There's some slight stuttering and stammering when ordering.
Am I nervous? Maybe. Overwhelmed? Possibly. Am I incessantly distracted by the arousing thought of what I'm about to ingest? Yeah. You hit the nail on the head. That's the one.
7. Then comes the unrealistic, yet justified, EUPHORIA.
The cashier is ringing up your food. She's asking if you want chips and guac. Of course I do, please just hurry up. Then she places the sweet, tinfoil baby in your hands and suddenly.. you're in heaven.
8. Then...
No explanation needed.
And lastly, as every true Chipotle addict knows, the vicious, delicious cycle will repeat itself - after just a couple of short, unsatisfying lunch breaks you spend in misery with a granola bar. You can't stay away, and you know it.
But that's okay. It's worth it.
