For a while now, my favorite restaurant has been Chipotle. I love the way you can customize your burrito to get it just right. Sometimes, I like to add both guacamole and sour cream, to give it a little heft. Other times, I sprinkle on shredded cheese, or some fresh cilantro, which most people don’t even know is on the menu.
But no matter what fixings I stuff in there, there’s always been one thing that makes my Chipotle burrito complete: Placing it on a table, aiming my .45 caliber pistol at it, and then shooting the bejesus out of it from close range.
There’s nothing I enjoy eating more than a Chipotle burrito that has been freshly blasted by a good, clean, American handgun.
That’s why Tuesday’s news that Chipotle has banned firearms inside all of its stores is so distressing. I mean, what gives? You’re telling me that now, after a hard day of work, I can’t even go to Chipotle, order a burrito, place it on top of a napkin dispenser in my booth, and then fire off seven or eight rounds into it before enjoying my meal?
I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do: Unload my firearm into the burrito in the Chipotle parking lot, like some kind of Frenchman?
Before you tell me to go and let off a few slugs into a burrito elsewhere, in a restaurant chain that hasn’t banned guns, you should know that I’ve tried all of the alternatives. There’s just no real replacement for an ammo-peppered Chipotle burrito. On the Border’s burritos are tasty, and management generally lets you use semi-automatics on your order if you step onto the smoking porch; but the whole thing can get a little pricey after tax and tip. You could open fire on the burritos at Del Taco, meanwhile, for fifteen minutes, and you still wouldn’t come close to the satisfying taste of a Chipotle burrito that’s been shelled with a revolver from two feet out.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on Moe’s burritos. Anyone who has ever popped off a couple live rounds into one of those knows what I’m talking about!
And sure, there are plenty of non-burrito restaurants where you can get a great meal while also threatening said meal at gunpoint while you’re eating. At Arby’s, for example, you can get a fantastic roast beef sandwich, and then fire off seven or eight shots into the au jus to make it smoky and tart and delicious. And you’ve never really eaten a Quizno’s sub unless you’ve removed the thing from the wrapping, stuffed a live hand grenade between the bun, pulled the pin, and then scraped the resulting schrapnel-wich off the restaurant walls with a plastic fork.
And I don’t think I’ll ever forget a certain meal I had at the Olive Garden a few years back. I had ordered the pasta primavera, and my waiter walked over to season my dish.
“Fresh pepper, Sir?” he asked, presenting a pepper mill. I shook my head no.
“How about some oregano, Sir?” he offered, pulling out a shaker. Again, I declined.
“And Sir, can I interest you in an entire round of this sub-machine gun being emptied onto your plate, followed by me beating the remains with this tire iron?” he asked, producing the necessary instruments.
I was stunned, and of course said yes. It was the best Italian food my wife and I ever ate, and also our most romantic anniversary dinner.
If only Olive Garden served burritos! Now, I’m staring into a future where there’s no decent option for a reasonably-priced burrito joint that also allows me to discharge my firearm into the ceiling while stuffing my face with barbacoa.
I guess I’m headed back to On the Border. It might be a little more expensive, but at least they recognize the Second Amendment: “The right of the people to keep and bear arms, and to avail oneself of those arms to blast the shit out of some Mexican food, shall not be infringed.”
God bless America. Now if you’ll excuse me: I’ve got some bullet-riddled chimichangas to dominate.
Jason O. Gilbert is a writer whose work has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, McSweeney’s, and many other fine publications. You can follow him on Twitter here.
Read more from Jason O. Gilbert on Above Average here.