

I’ll always remember the first time I went to Chipotle. I guess it must have still been a regional thing at the time because I had never heard of it or been to one, so I wasn’t familiar with how it worked. Someone I had just started dating brought me there.
There was a small menu on the wall in the area where you wait in line. It listed things like chicken burrito, bean burrito, etc, along with ingredients for each of those. So I thought, “Alright. Bean burrito sounds good.”
It’s my turn to order. I asked for the bean burrito. They stare at me and I stare at them.
“No, but what do you want on it?”
-“All the things for the bean burrito.”
“I need to know what you want on it.”
-“What? Just the regular. It’s on the sign there.”
I have returned to Chipotle only once because that same person I was dating at the time wanted to go. I didn’t want to deal with the burrito process, so I just ordered rice.
They didn’t specify that there was cilantro in the rice back then. I’ve got that cilantro equals soap gene.
I have never returned to a Chipotle.
Thank you for reading my mundane story.
That’s wild. I think I’ve seen it three times now and I’ve definitely missed stuff. Thanks for sharing. I wish we had a bigger horror community here on the fediverse.