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Love and burritos
Aug. 11th, 2003 09:42 pmChipotle was probably my first love, chronologically speaking.
Like love, it doesn't sound so great to hear about, but that's only because you don't really understand it until you experience it yourself.
Chipotle and I have to carry on a long-distance relationship, but that's okay. (In the last ten months I've gotten a lot of practice at that, and occasionally forget there are other kinds of relationships.) In fact, I've only been to Chipotle a few times, so it's like having a torrid affair, where everything is new and exciting.
We meet in exotic places: Maple Grove, Ohio, St. Cloud. From my first reluctant yet surprisingly happy visit to my second happy visit and my third happy viist, it's always gone well for us. Yet I'm so rarely within an hour of any Chipotle that I get used to this vague yearning in the back of my mind. (Ali and I discussed tihs today--it's what brought on all this yearning--and she says she hardly knew how good she had it when she lived within walking distance of Chipotle at college.)
Every so often I'll remember it and pine for it until I fear I shall perish. In this way, it's sort of like this other long-distance relationship I have: sometimes I'm just fine and can go about my business as if I'm not living an incomplete existence. Other times--like today--I'm sadly aware of what I lack and can't even think straight because I ache with longing.
But it's an oddly pleasant ache, somehow. I love the pain; it means I am alive! Yeah, something like that. So I shall wipe the tears from my eye and go bravely on. Ali and I talked about going to Chipotle on Wednesday, even though we have to go to the Cities to do it. We might just spend the whole day there.
Like love, it doesn't sound so great to hear about, but that's only because you don't really understand it until you experience it yourself.
Chipotle and I have to carry on a long-distance relationship, but that's okay. (In the last ten months I've gotten a lot of practice at that, and occasionally forget there are other kinds of relationships.) In fact, I've only been to Chipotle a few times, so it's like having a torrid affair, where everything is new and exciting.
We meet in exotic places: Maple Grove, Ohio, St. Cloud. From my first reluctant yet surprisingly happy visit to my second happy visit and my third happy viist, it's always gone well for us. Yet I'm so rarely within an hour of any Chipotle that I get used to this vague yearning in the back of my mind. (Ali and I discussed tihs today--it's what brought on all this yearning--and she says she hardly knew how good she had it when she lived within walking distance of Chipotle at college.)
Every so often I'll remember it and pine for it until I fear I shall perish. In this way, it's sort of like this other long-distance relationship I have: sometimes I'm just fine and can go about my business as if I'm not living an incomplete existence. Other times--like today--I'm sadly aware of what I lack and can't even think straight because I ache with longing.
But it's an oddly pleasant ache, somehow. I love the pain; it means I am alive! Yeah, something like that. So I shall wipe the tears from my eye and go bravely on. Ali and I talked about going to Chipotle on Wednesday, even though we have to go to the Cities to do it. We might just spend the whole day there.