Burrito psychic

It's been a while, I know. And, for those of you who might be wondering, no, I didn't get smashed under my now-existent, large (and so soft) lesbian bed while trying to move it myself. No, I didn't get squished under my wobbly and too tall bookshelves either. And, no, Scott hasn't gotten so sick of me yet that he decided to lock me in the fridge. I'm just adjusting to a new life and waiting for my new computer.

Which leads me here: Japantown. I've had so much ramen, sashimi, tempura, soy with wasabi, green tea, unagi donburi, and barely passable coffee in the last several days that I was craving a burrito (my LA to the Mission roots are still with me). I was thrilled to go to over to Youth Speaks just so I could have an excuse to get a burrito for lunch. So when Ken said that it was part of his plan for us to make a burrito stop, I wondered if he was psychic.

We went to my old stomping ground, Cancun, at my suggestion, and I had my usual, a super burrito with grilled chicken and everything on it. I waited hungrily and executed enough restraint to not scarf down all my chips (a very proud moment). And, when they finally called my number, I jumped with joy from my seat, nearly knocking the bench over.

Oh, it was just like how I remembered it: heafty, warm, and full of gooey goodness. A grilled tortilla never tasted so good as when it's coated with melting cheese and sour cream. But, there seemed to be something missing. I thought I ordered a chicken burrito but the chicken seemed to be missing. There were chicken bits in there, but not enough to warrant the name "Super Chicken Burrito" by my standards. Slightly disappointed, I dug on, hoping that it was just the first couple of bites that lacked chicken. But, nope. The more I ate, the less chicken I saw. Sadness filled my heart and rice filled my belly.

But, I powered on. I wasn't going to let a lacking of chicken ruin my burrito moment. I dug my chips in to scoop out all the rice and avocado in the tortilla shell, and finished my Mandarin soda. It felt like home.