Last night on my way home from improv, I stopped at T bell for my uje (pronounced Yooj, as in hipster for usual): the double beefy cheesy burrito - meat, rice, nacho cheese and yes it's as good as it sounds. Most likely better. Like a warm Mexican dream on a beach in Mexico next to the Mexican ocean in your Mexican mouth. I also grab a crunchwrap supreme for dessert. Pretty standard fare - all the uje ingredients of anything at taco B: meat, cheese, sour cream, tomatoes, beans. Well, I was about to be disappointed that they didn't put enough meat on it, when it happened.
Garth (O.S.)
What happened?!
Lo and behold - I hit nacho cheese. Yes, nacho cheese on a crunchwrap supreme! Hot damn! Gobs of it! It... it was everywhere! I devoured the disc shaped mexican repast with fervor and whim, savoring every gob of delicious process cheese food, its flavor bouncing around, off each of the others, complementing... caressing... Exciting them!... as the crunchy-melty-cheesy-gooey-meaty-goodness-ness circled, churned, and descended to my yearning belly. I relished every last crumb and drop of the meal, fully knowing that this rare treat would soon be gone, the likes of which would not be seen again in many a drunk night. It made my evening. It was like discovering plutonium by accident! Like a night of unbridled and unprotected lust with a strange and beautiful woman with long hair and no gag reflex and finding out later that she's clean, not pregnant, and doesn't want a relationship... Like football season.
As I writhed in ecstasy and IBS while my entire digestive tract made love to the awesome Mexican morsel, I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever again have the absolute pleasure of discovering nacho cheese where it hadn't been before, but then, I fell asleep. So whoever screwed that order up, thank you. You are a true hero.
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