Anyone interested in seriously competing in this year’s Douche Bag Olympics had better seriously step up their training regiment. I just bumped into a couple serious Jedi F***ing Masters up at Chipotle that have me pondering the potential existence of a drug which enhances people's douchiness.
There were two of them. The first ordered a burrito bowl, the whole while explaining that she also wanted some (free) warmed tortillas…so she could roll her own burrito out of burrito bowl ingredients. I rolled my eyes back so far at this moment that I was actually able to see behind me: I noted the entire line (out the door by this point) was collectively either rolling their eyes or I guess maybe having a seizure.
Here’s where you will no doubt realize these two d-bags were not horsing around:
After wrapping & rolling the tortillas, Chipotle Girl lifted D-bag #1’s empty burrito bowl and asked what kind of rice she’d like. White rice, the response. Not bad, yeah? C-girl dumps a generous helping of rice into the bowl. Next up? What kind of beans would you like, D-bag #1?
“Oh…all of them. But first can you put some brown rice into a separate container for me?”
This really threw me. People do weird shit at Chipotle all the time; ordering both rice variations is something I’ve never seen. And…keeping them separate? I kinda wanted to look at the idiot in line behind me to see if he was as perplexed as I was…and then I remembered: this town is full of idiots. They’re perpetually perplexed. So of course he's going to look that way.
Now, wait a f***ing minute and back the f*** up for a minute now that we’re done talking about the rice (we basically are…C-girl dumped a spoonful of rice into a plastic container and lidded it) – D-bag #1 ordered all the beans??
Yup. She sure did. And once C-girl moved in with the spoon to dish up some beans – can you guess what’s going to happen? Because I shamefully didn’t – D-bag #1 stopped her: “Oh, can you keep the beans all in separate containers, too?”
At this point, the line was probably out to the street. I couldn’t help it; I had to turn and look at the idiot behind me. It was one of those Mexican Standoff moments; we exchanged identical glances: “Look. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. Any other set of circumstances we’d be at each other’s throats. …but can you believe this b*tch???”
So let’s recap: we have a burrito bowl with white rice in it. We’ve got some heated tortillas wrapped up in foil. And now, we’re up to three tubs full of different kinds of rice and beans. At this point, C-girl no doubt notices the line is approaching the On the Border two blocks away and decides to try to move this along. “Meat?”
Oh, no. No, no, no: shame on you, C-girl – you skipped the fajita veggies! What a bitch. Have no fear: D-bag #1 pointed it out while simultaneously asking for (you’re getting the rhythm of this now!) … a separate container for them.
Now, in the interests in spending less time on this post than I spent in the eternal f***ing line at Chipotle today, I’ve been omitting the conversation between D-bag #1 and D-bag #2 that commenced prior to entering the facility. In the same way that a writer will allude to the proverbial gun on the mantle during Act I such that he can easily bring said gun back with minimal effort for Act III, it becomes worth mentioning at this point that – this entire time – D-bag #2 was nodding her head like a fool while D-bag #1 provided at least a thousand different reasons why ordering her food this way just made sense. D-bag #2 just kept nodding. I should have known.
Anyways – where were we? Oh right – one bowl, four tubs now, and a roll of tortillas. Well, next up was meat, and D-bag #1 defied my increasingly-negative expectations at this point by only asking for one kind of meat – chicken. Two separate tubs were filled with it, sure, but hey – she could have asked for one tub of each meat option.
So all my Chipotle homies know what’s up next – condiments. And all you aspiring D-bags out there probably know what’s coming next, too, so I’ll be brief. Of the Chipotle condiment bar – which consists of at least three types of salsa, cheese, guacamole, sour cream, and lettuce – not a single item was spared from the gullet of D-bag #1. I quit counting at this point. From the condiment bar alone this lady’s haul increased by at least seven more tubs.
Finally I could – if nothing else – see relief in the eyes of C-girl as she slid the D-bag’s meal over to the cashier. The look in C-girl’s eyes when she shot a quick glance upwards let me know without having to turn around that by this point the line had probably snaked past the On the Border a long time ago and was likely approaching the actual border. Luckily, the end was in sight.
Or was it?
At this point I will provide a Kaiser Soze-esque montage of one-liners from D-bag#1’s mouth as – like I mentioned above – she used her time in line to educate D-bag #2 on the many benefits of ordering Chipotle in such a manner as to make yourself a pariah:
“It’s just smarter this way.”
“You just get more control this way, you know?”
“Yeah I like to roll my own burritos this way.”
“Seems better for you.”
You know what happens next:
C-girl: “What can I get for you?”
D-bag #2: “Yeah…I’ll have...exactly what she ordered.”
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