Chipotle (Perimeter Loop)

I got a brief glimpse today of what life will be like when I'm an old man. I'll be moving at what I think is a brisk pace, while the rude and frantic world hustles and shouts in a maelstrom all around me. What's that? I couldn't hear you. Lean closer, I don't want to shout. Hold your horses. I'm moving as fast as I can.

No, I didn't travel forty years into my own future, but I did visit the Chipotle in the Giant Eagle shopping center at Perimeter Loop. I was having an unusually productive day at work and didn't want to waste a great deal of time feeding my face. A burrito to go - that's the answer.

When I arrived just past noon, the line nearly reached the door. That's understandable. Chipotle is tasty and cheap - of course they're going to attract a lot of customers. But do they all have to shout - into cell phones, across the restaurant, at a friend standing two feet away? And does every surface in the restaurant have to be stainless steel, hardwood, or concrete, so the noise level is amplified? Tom Brady couldn't call a play in there without a bullhorn.

When I reached the order counter, I saw the Burrito Assembly Specialist's lips move, but I couldn't hear her above the din. Fortunately every Chipotle has giant signage above the counter explaining how to order. "I'll have a fajita burrito with carnitas, please," I shouted.

Scoot right to another Burrito Assembly Specialist, who didn't bother to speak, but merely looked at me expectantly. Time to shout more instructions. "Corn salsa, please. Sour cream. Cheese. Lettuce. No guacamole, thanks." The girl to my left keeps bumping me. Does she think that'll make this process go faster? Maybe she thinks I'm a hottie. Yeah, I'm sure that's it.

Then down to the cashier, who tried to charge me something like $15. Apparently she thought I'd like to pick up the tab for Bumpty Girl. "I'm just buying just that burrito, to go," I shouted, pointing at my lunch. She made a Simon Cowell face, then re-rang the purchase for just under $6. That's more like it. I bought 35 cents worth of karma by dropping my change in the now-ubiquitous "TIPS" can, jostled my way past the ten or twelve people standing around by the soda fountain and condiment stand, and made my way back to the car, muttering under my breath, the January air freezing the frown on my face.

And then I got back to work, sat down, peeled the foil from my still-hot burrito, and took a bite. Ahh. Taste buds awakening...heart rate slowing...anger subsiding. Chipotle is simply in a class of its own when it comes to fast-food quality. That soft, warm tortilla. That fresh rice, with a hint of lime. The lean, well-seasoned pork. Green peppers that snap when you bite into them. The sweet and mildly spicy corn salsa. Fantastic. Halfway through, I noticed they forgot the lettuce, but I didn't care. The portion size is so big, any normal person should really throw away the final six bites, but I thought of the starving children in Africa and finished the whole thing.

Fantastic taste for under $6. Forty minutes from the time I left my desk to the time I returned to work. Isn't that exactly what this blog is all about? If you have a high tolerance for noise and hassle, you can expect a great meal for chump change at the Perimeter Loop Chipotle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down, take some Doan's Pills, and watch some Andy Griffith.