It's cold in Ohio, and since the work cafeteria is closed due to the holiday, I shuffled to the closest place to work, which happened to be a Chipotle. Super. Awesome. Burritos are great.
I order my burrito from the gentleman at the tortilla press, who was apparently a manager (it all comes out in the wash below). He pressed the tortilla and asked if I wanted beans and rice. Yes, please, black beans.
He handed off the tortilla to the next person on the Assembly Line of Utter Deliciousness, who just stared at it. We'll call him Number 2.
"Beans," said the manager. "Rice."
Number 2 just stared at it.
"Frijoles?" said the manager.
Number 2 shrugged.
"This is your job," said the manager. "Please put beans on the tortilla."
Number 2 gestured vaguely around him.
"Beans." Ordered the manager.
"And rice?" I asked.
"Beans and rice!" said the manager.
"Dr. Scott!" exclaimed Janet.
"Grunt," went Rocky.
"Boom," went the dynamite.
Etc. Etc. Etc. Rinse and repeat, only with Spanish subtitles, 'cos they did the whole thing again in Spanish.
By the point, the lunch rush is backed up behind me like a toilet at a cheese festival. The manager slopped some rice on to my poor, naked tortilla. "You put it on like this!"
Number 2 looked away. Then he wandered to the prep counter behind him and stared off into space.
Eventually, the manager had no choice but to turn his attention to the rest of the crowd, but dragged Number 2 back to the serving line and informed him that they would need to have a discussion in the back office later (which is why I'm under the assumption that the first guy was the manager).
No, I didn't get any beans. Number 2 just slid the tortilla to the next lady in line, and so on.
Now frankly, I'm not all worked up about beans. Sure, they're delicious, but I was feeling really awful for the masses stuck in line behind me, waiting for their chance to even order lunch. Around here, most of us have to work through lunch, so getting out to grab a quick burrito is a Really Big Deal.
I have to say, though, what's the big stink? I mean, really, is it hard to twack some beans on a tortilla and pass them on? Number 2 could hear what his manager was telling him. He could see the action he needed to perform. He got the run-down in two languages. I'm assuming he was lightly trained before they put him on the floor. I've worked food service before, and sure, I got some serious performance anxiety the first time I assembled a Greek salad in public, but Number 2's one and only job is to twack beans in the general direction of a tortilla.
Of course, there was no need to mention it to management, because, hey, he was right there. I went back today, and the staff was the same, except Number 2 was... predictably absent. I received an awesomely huge burrito- I've still got some of it here, if anyone's interested in sharing.
So yes, I think everything's fine now. The situation was just so absurdly comedic that I think I'll giggle every time I go to that particular Chipotle. I've had some good times there!