I like Chipotle. (Or as some crazies call it, Capote.)
It’s fairly quick — except for crush hours — and reasonably priced, and the stuff they throw into your burrito looks pretty fresh.
And you get to personally choose that stuff anyway, from tomatoes and salsa to Carol Channing’s personal favorite, corn.
But how the fuck do you eat it?
If you lift the burrito and eat it with your hands, all hell breaks loose and the things falls apart like a Basic Instinct sequel.
And if you cut it with a knife, it still breaks up into Mexican mayhem — which would be fine if they gave you a large dish to eat it off.
It’s in a smallish basket for some reason, and you deserve an Olympic gold medal if you can contain all the contents of the burrito within that poignantly precious little thingie.
It’s a culinary nightmare, and you find yourself cowering in fear that someone might spot you, not only at “Capote,” but with burrito fixings all over your pants.
If I want to look like a messy pig, I’ll stick to fine restaurants like Taco Bell.