3 Irrefutable facts:
- We are all creatures of habit…
- Habits are hard to break….
- Burritos are the best comfort food on earth as well as the most perfectly engineered super-fast-food (as long as the tortilla and foil hold).
Up until recently, they were the province of those who lived in states within relatively close-enough proximity to Mexico. Not anymore. Damn you Chipotle.
I railed against a horrible ailment that stricken’s us all when I used to work in The Mission (San Francisco) — the failure of many of us to expand what I succinctly and elegantly coined, our TADSTFWFL.
I’ve seriously been at a new job downtown (Seattle) for less than 3 weeks and I’ve been to Chipotle 3 times. Seriously 3 of 12 days – 1/4 of all lunch’s for you math nerds, with the others filled with some pretty awful Chinese, leftovers or a company party.
McDonald’s used to own Chipotle I thought? Then they were super green for recycling all the used paper towels into the bowls they put their delicious “burrito without the bun” or whatever they call it into. They are publicly traded and I should definitely buy their non-consumable stock, because the line to buy the stuff is horrendously long.
that Repurposed Here…
Stretching the boundary of Comfort.
It is a little known fact that 54% of all statistics are made up on the spot. A more well established statistic is this: The Average Distance Someone Travels From Work For Lunch (TADSTFWFL) = 1.189564450 sq. blocks. For someone downtown this means eating the same sandwich over and over again from the same 5 or 6 places. For someone who works in SOMA it means eating out of the same dumpsters time and again.
Considering Ovahere.com is situated in the beautiful and historic Mission, I would surmise that I ate around 548 burritos from within a 1 block area of our office last year alone. I love these burritos, and they love me, there’s no denying that. They are undoubtedly delicious and fulfilling in the moment, with their guacamole, black beans, salsa verde, rice, carne asada/carnitas/pollo, crema y cilantro (and of course love), but each one is bordering on the surgeon generals recommended daily caloric intake and 4 times the recommended fat intake. That coupled with the Popeye’s that is within 10 feet from the entrance to our building leads me to the conclusion that I should be morbidly obese any day now. Popeye’s is actually nominally better for me, because at least the portion sizes are only recommended for 3 people. Despite what G.W. says, the future is not big and bright; it’s almost bed-ridden.
For the sake of simplification we will refer to the 1.189564450 sq. block area that the average American worker walks to get lunch as their “Area of Comfort” or AC for short (not to be confused with OJ’s number one homeboy). That being said I go on a mission (pun intended) to walk outside my AC about once every 3 weeks, or about as often as I used to go to the gym when I was still tricking myself into paying them every month. I tell you it is remarkable what you will find if you just walk a little beyond the border of your AC — quite remarkable. I’ll give you an example: I was making my bi-monthly conscientious effort to move beyond the AC and what did I stumble upon? That’s right, you guessed it, Pizza! Yes in between Mission and Valencia on 21st St. there is a great little hole in the wall with tasty slices. If I had never bothered to look beyond my AC, it would have remained hidden.
On another such venture I walked even farther down Mission and found a gem called Pete’s Barbeque. This is a 50’s style diner that serves up roast beef sliced thick right in front of you on homemade bread and tender ribs slathered in tangy sauce. The place looks like it hasn’t been remodeled since it was opened, but considering the block of Mission it’s on, it appears relatively clean. I have one might call an “addictive personality”, especially when referring to fine cuts of bloody red meat. Needless to say I got stuck in a little bit of a rut with Pete’s and it was incorporated into my AC, which definitely wasn’t the point of my exercise. Only when I was affected by a bout of dysentery (unfortunately caused by the lack of hygiene at Pete’s) did I take a break. Everyone in our office had been turned on to the beauty of the Pete’s roast beef sandwich, but we all suffered the same way after eating that beautiful sandwich.
What is the point to this breakdown of conventions you may ask? It’s that we all get too accustomed to things being a certain way, we get fat and happy, but it’s a façade. To truly be happy you must go beyond your limits, find that pizza or tasty-yet-dysentery-causing sandwich, and you will have truly found satisfaction. It’s out there people, just go that extra block.