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Please Don’t Show Up To Chipotle And Order For All Your Trash Coworkers

Please Don't Show Up To Chipotle And Order For All Your Trash Coworkers

I see social norms violated every day. There’s a guy in this complex who uses a paper towel to grip the handle while exiting the bathroom and then tosses it on the floor because there’s no trashcan there. Weird move, very low-rent, but it doesn’t really affect me outside of having to see three or four balled up paper towels in the corner by the end of the day. Today, though, I seen some shit, and because it went down at my signature lunch spot, Chipotle, I took it personally.

I hit the ‘le two or three times per week. I always expect a line, because it’s a consistently decent and quick meal that people can feel good about depending on their nutrition goals. Today was no different. The line wasn’t out the door, but it was close enough that you’d think twice before committing to it. Per usual, you had lots of people looking down at their phones to avoid any type of social interaction. I don’t judge them for that, but when I’m feeling high and mighty, I’ll keep mine in my back pocket so I can really “disconnect” for a bit. I can usually make it four or five minutes until I get sick of making eye contact with the same high school chud shoveling rice and bean residue into his stupid mouth. I’m still a work in progress.

Well, we were moving along fine, and then we seemed to hit a real lull in forward movement. That happens. You can almost expect that during peak lunch rush. You stop, step to the side to see what’s going on, and the guy behind you starts inching closer to you as if his momentum can will the entire line forward. It’s a cycle. During my investigatory gaze toward the front, I saw what I believe a thirty-something woman*, full pantsuit, with a handful of envelopes and three large to-go bags. Oh, helllll no.

Office orders happen. Sometimes you luck out and the office admin was woke enough to order online, and other times you’re forced to watch someone read multiple orders off of a goddam index card. Huge kick to the scrote, but that’s a risk you’re assuming when you step in line for a highly average, yet satisfying, burrito. But never in my most messed up dreams have I encountered someone ordering for the entire office AND PAYING SEPARATELY for each order. I counted 9, but it felt like a thousand. It gets better. Those little envelopes? They had debit cards, and in some instances, cash. CASH. Legal tender, bank notes, currency. Imagine what kind of asshole you have to be in the year 2017 to not only send a runner to snag burritos for the entire office, but to also drop a Hamilton in an envelope for her. That’s pure evil.

That is most certainly not the move. I need to know what kind of bootleg office either doesn’t know you can order online, or doesn’t care. Further, how did no one recognize the situation was prime for a nice little lick on the credit card points? Am I too disconnected from everyday America on this one? You toss over your AMEX and then hit them with that Venmo. That’s how it works. I demand to speak to the senior leadership of this office who greenlighted this social suitcase nuke.

*I don’t care if you were following orders. You are just as guilty. There’s blood on your hands.

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Dave

Lawyer. Writer. Dude doing business. I'm the meatloaf guy from tv.

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