Every girl remembers the special time they lost their Chipotle virginity. Okay, maybe not every girl but I remember it like it was only yesterday.

The douche I was dating at the time took me to Chipotle because like most people he thought it was insane that I had never been. I didn’t see what the big deal was. It was only burritos, right? WRONG. Little did I know that I was about to discover the sexual healing that only copious amounts of guacamole can give.

Walking up to the line was intimidating. Did I want a bowl? A salad? A burrito? What if I chose a bowl and regretted it? I MOTHER FUCKING HATE THIS SOPHIE’S CHOICE BULLSHIT! I WANTED IT ALL! My boyfriend convinced me to get a burrito and so I did. I decked it out with all the trimmings I wanted. We paid and then found a table where my destiny would forever be altered.

I opened the brown bag where my silver foiled treasure was hidden. I grasped for my gem and almost broke my arm. It was the heaviest food in the tri-state area. The burrito was the size of a football. I was convinced I had five pound dumbbells at home lighter than this beast.

How was I going to eat this?! If the burrito was five pounds in my hands then that same five pounds was going to be in my stomach in a minute. I was disturbed but knew that I needed to complete my mission.

I dramatically and slowly peeled back the wrapper like it was a Willy Wonka Candy Bar and I was about to find the golden ticket. I laid my eyes upon the creature I was about to consume. I took a whiff and it smelled exactly how I imagine Rob Lowe’s balls smell… heaven. I took a bite and let the Chipotle burrito deflower me. It was so wrong but oh so right.

“OOOOohhhhh. AAAhhhhh. YESSSS!!!” I couldn’t control my moans. I couldn’t pace myself. The burrito continued to defile me with it’s taste and girth. Before I knew it I was finished and left panting in the booth.

From that point on I was hooked. Chipotle was a drug and I was addicted. I TRIED to say no. I TRIED not to masturbate to the thought of sour cream. I knew Chipotle was bad for me. I even used Panera as a rebound. Panera treated me good for a while but then I’d look across the food court and see Chipotle. I swear I could hear the restaurant whisper “Come to me, Jamie. No one can fill your mouth the way I do. Panera can’t leave you feeling like you’ve just been gang banged by the Backstreet Boys. Just this one last time, please.” And so I’d give in.

I ended up breaking up with the asshat I was dating at the time. I could blame his constant pot smoking. I could blame it on the fact that he was a loser. But I really think it was the fact that Chipotle was more appealing than he was. Sorry, not sorry.

Now years later Chipotle is still my side bitch. We don’t see each other as often as we used to but I know Chipotle is always there when I need it. Bad day at work, just watched The Notebook, it’s Tuesday… Chipotle will be there to blow my mind and then comfort me after. I believe as the years go by and as I become older Chipotle will still be around. It could be Armageddon and the only things left standing will be cockroaches and Chipotle. My limbs could be blown off by a meteorite and I’d still find a way to prance over to the mall to devour my burrito lover.

Give this Bitch a Gold Medal

Are we star-crossed lovers? Maybe.

Will it always be this way? I hope so.

Some people smoke. Some people steal. I deep throat burritos and that’s a-okay.


UPDATE: Chipotle has read this post and is requesting a booty call for later today.


(This post first ran on Fits of Wit.)

About the author: Jamie Alvarenga enjoys writing about humorous, awkward, and sometimes uncomfortable topics. She is inspired by strong women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds and compete with men. In her free time she’s lovingly annoying her husband, and chasing after their two dutch rabbits. Find more of her ridiculous stories at FitsofWit.com. She can also be found (telling one too many dirty jokes) on Facebook and Twitter.


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