Where is Little Juan?
By Adam Turner
Earlier this year I had an epiphany.
As I strolled into LaFortune late one evening, I felt the familiar sting of hunger race through my stomach, and I decided that I needed to find something to eat. This was an incredible hunger, one that I had never felt before. Not just any snack would do. Tomassito's was right out, because the pizza sucks. And everyone knows that Burger King smells better in the dumpster the next day — I just don't trust anything that cooks on a conveyor belt. My options were limited, and I was growing more and more hungry, when in the corner of the Huddle Mart, a choir of angels sang out to me, and a golden flash appeared before my eyes, and I first beheld the beauty that is the Little Juan frozen burrito.
Before this happened, I always thought that 7-11 was the only place to go for frozen burritos. That's the one thing I've learned about love, that you always find it in the last place you look. But there it was the whole time, right in front of me, hanging out under the cookie dough batter, next to the cheese cubes. Little Juan promised a red-hot supreme burrito, full of shredded beef steak and jalapeno peppers. I was ready to test the accuracy of such bold advertisement.
I grabbed the burrito from the icy cold cooling unit and paid for it, then ran back to Dillon to prepare my feast. After a short minute and 45 seconds, I beheld the finest cuisine to ever come out of a microwave. Sometimes you can just tell when something feels right in a relationship. You have compatible likes. I like eating the burrito and it likes being in my stomach. I bet you're saying "yeah, and then sitting on the toilet for the whole next day." This is untrue. Little Juan makes a kinder frozen burrito, one that will not cause gastro-intestinal problems. It is simply a delicious way to get 65 percent of your daily allowance of fat in one gluttonous debacle.
As time went on, I tried other frozen burritos, but I kept coming back to Little Juan and his wonderful variety of meat and bean matter-filled burritos. I could always count on Little Juan being there for me, no matter how bad my week was going. I could always have a burrito if I really needed one. I'm sorry to say that everything changed last week. All of a sudden, Little Juan stopped being there for me. I walked into the Huddle Mart after a rough week in the lab, and in Little Juan's designated area were frozen gorditas! These bastardized frozen burrito products had taken away my birthright, and I was visibly upset. Did the cashiers care about my extreme displeasure? When I asked the young man about the location of Little Juan's burritos, all he could offer in response was "What?"
I left the Huddle Mart sadly that day, my friends. There would be no more burrito goodness because Little Juan had sold out. So gather your friends today and storm into LaFortune, and don't leave until the working manager signs the order that will ensure the return of Little Juan to his shelf. Then feast on the ambrosia-like Little Juan burrito. With steak and jalapenos!
All Inside Stories for Friday, March 30, 2001