Monday, March 12, 2007

The question of last meals surfaced during lunch last week, posed against a grim backdrop of death row, no less, and my answer remained as eternal as the question itself. There are analogues here in town, would-be claimants to the burrito throne, but stacked against the likes of Qdoba, Moe’s, and Salsarita’s, Chipotle still stands unmatched. It’s the simplicity of the ingredients and, most of all, the hearty texture of the food.

But the problem is there aren’t any Chipotles in Charlotte, at least for the time being. When I was job hunting, it wasn’t a cover letter or an interview follow-up that furtively launched from my outbox, it was an e-mail to Chipotle. I wanted to know if they were planning on expanding to North Carolina, any part of North Carolina, so desperate was my missive.

“Please God say yes,” went my post-script.

I’m not kidding. This was a factor. They actually replied, told me to give it a year or so and, sure enough, there are two locations now with two to follow, but still nothing in these here parts. That’s okay, though, because at some point I decided to be a big person and consider things other than tortilla diameter, like job description and location.

So, about that. I’ve looked at 20-something townhouses now, during the course of which I’ve learned things no man should know about carpets, kitchens, flooring, and trim. I’ve offered, counter-offered, walked away, had regrets, but probably the most valuable thing has been sharpening my housing criteria–what’s got to be there, what can give a little, and why. It’s been the best and most draining experience. Now it’s time to figure out how to pull the trigger and commit.