In a developing story out of Tacoma, Chipotle employee Brendan Huss is making your burrito like this is some kind of game to him.
“How’s your day going?” asked the affable Brendan as he sloppily and stingily portioned out cheese into a waiting tortilla.
After an initial offer to “tell you how this all works,” it was obvious that he had confused you with some kind of burrito rookie who has time to dick around and not the discerning, refined burrito expert that you are.
“Any big plans later?” he asked, willfully ignoring the minuscule pool of beans that he had the nerve to find sufficient to serve you.
“Is this some kind of joke?” you thought, like any rational person who hadn’t eaten lunch that day would also think. “Like, is he getting off on this?”
Sources confirm that, while friendly, Brendan doesn’t understand the gravitas of the burrito-building process.
“He’s throwing cheese on there like nothing’s at stake,” explained bystander Tracey James, peeling back the foil on her own under-stuffed burrito. “And speaking of steak, he couldn’t have put any less into that burrito.”
Even Brendan’s co-workers are on your side.
“Brendan is great and everything, but he’s clearly out of his league,” said co-worker Anne Mills. “Not everyone is fit to be making food for starving businesspeople on their lunch half hour.”
“People don’t come to Chipotle to be swindled out of hard earned cash in exchange for a flimsy burrito,” she added. “They come here to absolutely wreck some barbacoa and leave.”
After he wrapped up your sad, underweight burrito, Brendan made sure to get the last word.
“Have a great day!” he said, unaware of just how distinctly and negatively he had affected the rest of your day.
“Oh and, just so you know, the guac is extra,” he added.
