Iro, barf now or prepare to face the horror.
The Curse of the Red Burrito.Once upon time.... I was driving threw St. Louis when I saw a sign that said Red Burrito "that’s interesting", I said to myself out loud for no particular reason. Perhaps I would enjoy a red burrito, it is about lunch time. The next sign on the side of the building sealed the deal, and my fate. It read “Mexican Fresh” I’m not sure what the sign was alluding to, I can however assure you that it was not a reference to their food.
I got the one pound chicken burrito and helped myself to the complimentary salsa bar that looked like it had been out in the heat a little too long. The beans looked like they had just scrapped the film off the top (or bottom) of the pan, the chicken was perhaps taken from an elderly pigeon apparently suffering from some horrible illness. The rice was so dry it absorbed all the moisture that may have at one time been in the burrito. The sour cream looked a little “off white” which is never a good sign. But like every good boy, I cleaned my plate.
And then I almost barfed several times, first in the restroom immediately after eating. Hindsight being twenty-twenty I should have done so and left the cleanup to the employees but no, I held on almost loosing it again in the lobby and again in the parking lot as I struggled to get back to my car.
For three days I was haunted by my red burritto it plagued me with hellish nightmares by night, in one a large bird throwing up baby birds and in another, rats and mice were crawling around in my mouth. And aching stomach pain tortured me by day. I yearned to be free of the grasp of the red burritto but alas, it would not loosen its grip.
Then it let go, all at once, like something out of the exorcist. I swear I could hear the Red Burrito employees laughter as everything I had collected the past seventy two hours and all my dignity roared out of me.
So if you ever find yourself near St. Louis, you are going to want to steer clear of the Red Burrito fast food chain, unless of course you’re the kind of person that enjoys the horror, the hallucinations and the explosive diarrhea that accompanies any good bout of food poisoning. Many of my stories seem to end this way, for some weird reason I never seem to learn my lesson. I wonder what kind of food they have at the Lion’s Choice?