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If the Devil is a Lie… So is Chipotle’s Guacamole

Written by Ben Carter

There are many things in this world that are simply irresistible. New car smell, a great new outfit, Kate Upton, moisturized lips in the winter and the music of Sade. This is a short list of things many could agree are difficult things to deny yourself when given the chance to indulge.

But none of these reach the pure level of ecstasy that arise in me than when I face the prospect of asking for guacamole in my Chipotle burrito bowl. Chipotle is already a problematic meal proposition to start. For some reason, whenever you go, there is usually a long line. I don’t eat beef or pork so I don’t have the “which meat do I want dilemma”, but I recognize it’s something Chipotle enthusiast must contend with. Do you opt for two meat selections? Do you hope to be satisfied with one?

The biggest moment in every visit to Chipotle is the “meat scoop”. When you’ve decided on chicken, beef, sofritas or pork, how much meat will the person preparing your burrito or burrito bowl scoop onto your creation? Will it be an accidentally generous scoop? Or will you have to “go there” and ask for a little more, while trying to avoid catching an attitude and a “double meat upcharge”?

Once you make it through your pico de gallo and salsa selections, and decide whether you want to add calories via sour cream and cheese, every Californian, mexican food loving, fiend like myself is faced with the impossible decision of whether or not to add the guac.

Chipotle’s guacamole is the best, mass produced, green condiment in the United States. I’m quite sure the company’s executives are aware of this because, the last time I looked… A little more than a shots worth of guacamole at Chipotle will cost you at least $2.50.

If the Devil is in the details, this is a huge Lucifer-looking situation. $2.50 for a shot of guacamole is an absurd proposition for someone as cheap as me. I love guacamole. I buy avocados and make my own at least once a week. Despite my love for it, my principles get in the way. I find myself having to find reasons why I “deserve” it… “I did do the dishes!... And plus, my cell phone bill isn’t due until two weeks from now… And wait… I did call my grandma last night too! I deserve this bit of green goo heaven.”

If I’m not able to compile a list of reasons as to why I have earned guacamole for that trip to Chipotle, I usually pass. Everytime I pass, it’s like reliving the death of my first childhood pet. It was a crawfish. I was about 6-years-old and I cried for hours. Sadly, I don’t remember its name.

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