That Guy

I was standing in the line at Chipotle the other day for I was craving some bean induced diarrhea, when I was confronted with a social experiment.  I am often confronted by these and I usually remain silent to save the juicy details for the written word.  I could not stay silent on this one.

The couple in line ahead of me were making up some delightful looking meat laced burritos when the dude asks for the green peppers and onions option.  The counter dude proceeds to do precisely as he's asked and loads up both meals with the selection.  Then the customer dude asks the counter dude to remove all of the onions from both wraps.  Uh...huh?  So the poor counter dude stands there for a good four minutes, which is an eternity when you have an ever increasing line-up of ravenous people growing up and out the door to the establishment and picks through the several spoonfuls of peppers and onions to remove the requested item.  The counter dude seems satisfied with his efforts to remove the onions from the fucking onion and green pepper duo and passes the wraps to the next link in the chain of gas generating choices.  The customer dude who we will now refer to as 'That Guy', intercepts the pass and says, "Yo bro, I can still see onions on my food."

Yup.  So That Guy with his girlfriend, who oddly was not put off by any of this behavior and actually seemed in total support of her man, had the poor under-paid and exploited sixteen year old Chipotle employee pick off the fucking onions for a second time.  At this point the line was growing quite impatient.  I could feel eyes rolling, huffs being taken and iphones being checked, for who has the time to be uncomfortable in wait without pocket entertainment?

Come on dude?  Seriously?  If you're so adverse to onions, don't get that option.  How badly did you require green peppers that day?  Did your father a few moments earlier get trapped by six feet of snow in a tragic ski accident and before he was smothered by the depths of winter bliss, his last wish was for you to be rude to people serving you, take liberties with other peoples time, and reject onions in all their glorious forms for the rest of your miserable malcontent life?  I hate you, you fuck.  Everyone else in the restaurant hates you.  Is that the legacy you want to leave behind?  People hating you cuz you were That Guy?  How this Guy has found a woman as equally as myopic and self-obsessed with dietary needs, is beyond me.  It couldn't have been an allergy, cuz onions be transferring their onion DNA to those peppers, bro.  Also, have you cooked with onions before, bro?  They flavor everything they come into contact with like...onions!  Your meal tastes like onions but perish the idea there should be any actual onions in your dish.  Do you know what a priority is, bra?

So after having an ample amount of time to think through what was going down, when it was finally my turn to order a meal that should only take two minutes to complete, I was asked if I wanted brown or black beans.  I said brown but added, "Could you pick out all of the beans that are larger than the tip of your pinky...please?"  The poor kid!  He looked into my bowl of beanly demise and took a big long sigh.  He couldn't even look at me, and than honest to god, started to pick through my meal.  I stopped him immediately of course with a "Dude!  I'm totally kidding."  He looked up at me with these big puppy eyes and not quite a smirk because he didn't know if he could trust me.  Once the realization set in that I was just fucking with him, the humor became evident and he relaxed.  The chick behind me said with a laugh, "I was going to walk if you were serious."  As fate would have it, That Guy and his chick didn't catch on.  I don't think it was fate really.  I think when you're that into your own needs, nothing else phases you.  And so with this tiny example I'd like to pose a plea to the world at large:  Please people, don't be That Guy.