Unfortunately, it's kind of hard to when I left this:
While I missed dirty Jerz and the Big Apple, it was still a bit of a rude awakening to find myself back home. Sure, ML seemed happy to see me (or maybe just my vagina) and I'm sure he enjoyed his quiet time without me nagging him, throwing things at him, sneaking up on and scaring the shit out of him and playing Man Man twenty-four-seven but... I think he missed me. He better have.
What really sucked was, less than twenty-four hours after arriving home, I had to climb into a packed-as-fuck train and head back to work in the city.
I have a love/hate relationship with New York. 90% of the time I think it's the greatest city in the entire world and the other 10% I feel like I'd be perfectly content never to step foot into the concrete jungle again.
Most of the time. Not always.
Plus, I work there and I'm not exactly a huge fan of my job.
Needless to say, I was a sad and violently cranky panda when I arrived at work Tuesday morning. The jet-lag didn't help and by the time lunch rolled around, I was in some serious need of comfort food.
Given the fact that pretty much everything I put in my mouth (ahem) grosses me out, it's hard for me to find a "comfort" food. Sure, Mac & Cheese is good but there is too big of a possible "yack" factor for it to be a comfort. Cheerios and toast make me want to vomit and I can't touch raw chicken without gagging. So, meal times are always an experience for me.
Except when it comes to Chipotle. For those of you who don't have one of these lovely chain restaurants in your area, it's basically a pretty kick-ass fast food Mexican restaurant. The food is always fresh, the service quick (especially when the Hispanic drag queen is working the grill. I don't know how his painted on eyebrows don't melt off) and, at $8.50 for a chicken burrito bowl to-go, relatively cheap by city standards.
Chipotle is like a spicy orgasm AND Christmas in my mouth. At the same fucking time.
Plus, it doesn't have the word "street" in its name, as in "street meat". People swear by those trucks but... no. I can't eat anywhere that doesn't specify exactly what kind of "meat" I'm eating.
Anyway. This is clearly turning into the most random and useless post I have ever written. I'm blaming it on the jet-lag. Still.
In honor of my favorite comfort food (specifically chicken, rice, beans and a boatload of hot sauce in a burrito bowl), I've written a poem.
Oh, Chipotle, how I love thee
when I walk through your doors at a quarter past twee'
Pinto and black beans, cilantro-rice!
I don't even really like cilantro
But you do it so nice!
I want to stick my face in the vat of sour cream
But I know that would make the others scream
I stand on line like a good New Yorker
and skip the guac so I don't become a porker
I get my burrito bowl and throw the tranny a smile
then skip back to my office, which is less than a mile
Oh, Chipotle, how I love thee
You don't even break the bank
but that chick who cut me in line
is a total skank
I'm the next goddamn Sylvia Plath. She wrote poetry, right?
Er, yeah. That's more like it.
What are your favorite comfort foods/restaurants? Feel free to write them a little poem in the comments!
Oh, and if you want to commend/mock me for my mad poetry skillz, feel free. I have a feeling I would be able to stop you anyway.