The one thing in life I can't live without

I had an upsetting experience on Halloween night at my favorite restaurant. In response I wrote an email, but then I was concerned it was a tad bit mellow dramatic (something I have never been accused of before). I sent it to my sister to ask her thoughts, and she in turn sent it to all of our friends. They agreed it was on par with my feelings and should be sent. It went a little something like this:

Original Comment:

Dear Chipotle,

I have been a loyal burrito lover for 15 years now. Growing up in Denver, I remember walking down Evans from Chipotle to the ice cream shop with my father from a young age. Later I remember kissing my high school sweetheart for a free meal on Valentine's day, and covering myself in tin foil for All Hallow's Eve. After that, I rejoiced when I lived in Oklahoma City, and a Chipotle was finally opened in Edmond, OK in 2008.

Last night, in a state of nostalgia, my sister and I dressed in tin foil and headed to our local Duke Chipotle for our delicious holiday tradition. (Yes it was cold, yes it was late, and yes Chipotle was 25 minutes away...but we thought it was worth it).

Upon our arrival we saw a whole host of costumes, but none of them true Chipotle lovers, as none of them were burritos. I went through the classic assembly line that has changed little throughout the years, and created my perfect chicken burrito. My sister in front, lands at the register and is charged full price. She inquired about the $2 burrito (a change from the days of old, but still a deal), only to have the woman at the register reject her foil as a costume. The same to me. Is a burrito no longer an acceptable costume in the house of burritos? What mad state has the world come to?

To make the matter worse, after I sat down to my over-priced-yet-nectar-of-the-

gods meal, the register woman tracked me down claiming my card had been declined. I knew this to be impossible, but unwillingly gave her my card as not to cause a scene. As expected, I arrived home to check that my card has been charged for not one, but two burritos. (When I had expected to give $2).

What would you do if you were me, Chipotle? You've been there for me throughout the years, and I have a hard time leaving you. We shared prom nights, first kisses (cilantro-ful and amazing) and drunken snacks together. You've been with me through two-a days in high school, spending hours driving from Oklahoma City to Dallas just to get my burrito fix 2006/07 before Edmond Chipotle existed. I've seen you in New York, Boston, and Chicago on all of my business trips. And yet, you've changed. And I'm not sure I can continue this one sided love. You are no longer the restaurant of free student drinks, human interest pieces on the cups, and a burrito in celebration of love. You are a place of judgment and double charging. I am hurt and rejected, miffed, and out an additional $6.89. So I ask again, what would you do if you were me?

Please help me and give me some advice, I'm not sure we can be together in the future- but I'm not sure I can live without you.

Yours,
Molly  

Too much? Apparently not because I just received the following reply. (On a Sunday no less!) 

Molly,

Thank you for taking the time to write us. It's a real pleasure to hear some of your storied history with us, and I'm very sorry about the way you were served by our team at the Duke Medical location. We should not have been overly discriminating about the costumes for this offer. We wanted this to be a fun, festive occasion to honor our fans and give back to the community, and we're disappointed that it was anything less than this for you. I will bring this to the immediate attention of the folks who oversee the restaurant so they can make sure their team is treating our guests with respect during events like this.

Again, we really appreciate your taking us seriously enough to express these concerns in writing. I'd also like to offer you a bunch of free-burrito cards (good for any menu item) as a way to say thanks for your support and we will do better. If you can write back with your postal address, I'll mail the cards out shortly. Thanks for keeping us informed, and I look forward to your reply.

Sincerely,

James

My relationship with this place is like a battered woman. I finally think I've had enough, and then he does one sweet thing to bring me back again. How long will it be until the next injustice? 

It's a two chopsticks kind of day.

When I was in 6th grade I showed up to school dressed to the hilt as Mary Katherine Gallagher (Molly Shannon's epic SNL character). I had the knee socks, the giant glasses (before hipsters made them cool), the fourth grade headband, the post-Spice World pleated flannel skirt, and the giant ruffled sleeved blouse. As it turns out, it wasn't Celebrity Day of spirit week- that was to be the following Monday.* It was a normal Monday in a cruel middle school world, and I was the girl dressed like this: 

 Ever since that fateful un-superstarish day, I have known deep down inside that I am a huge dork. (Call the whambulance, right?) 

I'm not popular, nor have I ever been. I mean, I'm popular in the craziest teacher/friend, fearless leader of the drama club, besties with little old church lady-popular... but we all know how much that means. Due to this lack swag, I am surprised by how many people have commented on my absence of blogging as of late. I mean, if you've noticed I haven't posted then you are reading my blog- and if you are reading my blog, does that make me popular? Probably not,  but enough people have bothered me that I decided to share the excitement of my misadventures in the past few weeks. (Maybe after you read this you will realize that, although nutty, my life has been anything but blog worthy).**

As I prepare to enter the crazy world that is music school grad auditions, I am spending my weekends bunkered in like Osama in hills. Occasionally I will step out for a brunch with friends, or more likely some take-out while in my pjs. Take a couple of weekends ago, both my sis and crazy K-Ho were out of town, and I spent the entire weekend in pajama jeans and a poncho. (This amazing combination meant that I didn't have to put anything on when I took the dogs out, and was comfortable enough to go back to bed whenever I saw fit. The world needs more ponchos). I did step out for Thai takeout.  I called in my order, drove to the little restaurant, paid for my order, and turned bright pink when they asked if two sets of chopsticks would be enough. Apparently they thought that two appetizers, and two entrees called for two sets of chopsticks. (I just saw it as planning for the future, why go out for takeout tomorrow when you just have to crawl to the fridge?) I agreed to the second set, justifying that Maude likes tofu and it would be weird to feed her with my utensils. Slightly less weird than a dog who prefers tofu to chicken, but maybe that's why she's miraculously still alive. Maybe Maude is the healthiest out of all of us. Scratch that- besides the constant need for a diaper (don't ask), her psychological issues, the blindness and the inability to hear out of her right ear, Maude is the healthiest of us all. 

And you wonder why I haven't posted. 

It's probably time for me to go back to the real world****, but I promise I shall post again soon. I am in the attempt to create world peace, starting with customer service workers... I'll let you know how that goes. 

*And even if it was Celebrity Day, the snot-nosed suburbanites of Falcon Creek Middle School had yet to be clued into the awesomeness of SNL. 

**Unless you want this to become one of those blogs that stay at home moms write about their children's sayings and their latest craft projects. If you want one of those blogs, check out pintrest or facebook, or some other social media where a blond in jeans and a plaid button up has pictures of a bearded/spectacled husband holding her infant and toddler while she tells you about how difficult yet full of meaning their life is. This is not that kind of blog.***

*** My life is rather simple, and devoid of any meaning. 

****Read: A cup of tea and my practice room.