There comes a point in every burrito eating experience where one’s immediate gastronomical future hangs in the balance – the Point of No Return.

To understand this phenomenon, you must be a lover of Mexican food, and intimately familiar with at least a few “bomb-ass burrito spots”.  Or just Chipotle.  You must also be something less than a complete monster or yoked bro that easily consumes an entire super burrito without a moment’s notice.  You should also be something more than a teeny-tiny little person who would never consider eating an entire Chipotle burrito at once.

The burrito experience is, to me, delightful.  I love feeling the warm weight of a good burrito in my hands.  I enjoy peeling back the foil and taking that first bite.  I especially like quality cheese in my burrito – coupled with the right amount of salsa, beans, rice, and grilled chicken breast, there’s nothing like it.  I rarely start a burrito without a good appetite, and the hand-held, compact nature of a burrito lends itself to rapid consumption.  “Inhaling” is often an apt descriptor for me eating a burrito.  I’m chugging along, really enjoying myself, taking careful bites, rotating the burrito as I peel back the foil, when all of a sudden I reach the point of no return.

The point of no return is located approximately 75% of the way through the burrito, and I almost inevitably stop here, however briefly, to reflect.  The remaining burrito is incredibly appealing – the tortilla is soft and still warm, the bits of chicken, surrounded by delicious layers of cheese and rice are offering themselves to me freely.  But I know that, deep down, I’m full.  I don’t need to eat the rest to feel satisfied.  I could just put it down, walk away, and avoid the food coma caused by eating an entire burrito in one sitting.  I deliberate.

As is, the remaining burrito could be conceivably re-wrapped in its foil and stowed in the refrigerator; later that night, I could open the burrito and have a delicious and rewarding little snack.  On the other hand, why not just eat the damn thing right now?  It’ll taste good, it’ll be over in a few bites, and I’ll be done with it.  But have just one more bite I cannot, for the remaining burrito, minus one good-sized bite, would be a paltry and disappointing snack to unwrap later tonight.  It would merely tease my taste buds with memories of the glorious full-bodied burrito, and leave me lusting for more.  And so I waver on the precipice, two choices very clear in my mind.

If I do manage to wrap up the burrito and walk away, I feel an incredible sense of self-satisfaction.  I feel that I’ve proved myself as a powerful and balanced individual – one who can look temptation in the eye and walk onwards.  If I do not, and decide to devour the final bites, I delight in my rebellion; I revel in my gluttony, and I eat with the strength of an ape – thoroughly enjoying the short-term gratification of indulgence.  Today, I wrapped it up.