PSA con frijoles
"I haven't been there in what... 5 years?" I asked myself. This almost invariably leads to a bad decision.
"I think I'll try it out for lunch." Well played, shit-hole restaurant. Well played indeed.
While spending nearly 30 whole seconds investigating High Tech Burrito, I discovered that it appears to be a Bay Area phenomenon. But McDonalds started as a single stand, too. Just say no, people.
As soon as you walk in, you are accosted for your order. No time to look things over. You wouldn't be coming here if you didn't know what you wanted. Or at least that's what I imagine management assumes.
"I'd like the chicken burrito."
"What kind of tortilla?"
"Uhh, kind? Magic, please."
"Whole wheat or flour?"
This line of questioning continues through choice of beans, rice, salsa, and toppings. For people so uppity about me spending a few moments to decide on an entree, they sure have an awful lot of questions.
As they gave me my total, I discovered what all of the smoke and mirrors were about - my $4.00 burrito was costing me $8.00. It would seem that I had made the wrong choices. I could see it in register attendant's eyes: "Should have said whole wheat, asshole."
What kills me is that I could have gone to any hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant and gotten a burrito the size of my fucking head, with all the trimmings, for just over $3.00. Include tip, and I'm still ahead of the base price of this burrito.
"This better be one good burrito," I thought as I left.
How was my High Tech Burrito? Essentially, I had just spent $8.00 on a Taco Bell 7-layer burrito. Except that this burrito didn't have 7 layers, and was smaller. And cost over 4 times as much.
And I don't like Taco Bell.
Fuck you, Robotic Tostada, or whatever you call yourself. My bowels have stopped cramping from your food, but they still ache whenever I consider what an unmitigated rip-off you are.