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A year ago, I was not really a fan of burritos. I’m sure I had had them before, but I was generally unimpressed. I was a die-hard taco fan. Tacos were there, as a good friend, to comfort me whenever I felt the need for imitation Mexican food. Even if the beef inside tasted like crap, the crunchy shell was there to make you happy — almost like a good sugar cone can make up for supermarket-brand ice cream. With the comfort of my crunchy tacos, there was never really a reason to delve into the land of burritos, especially at a Taco Bell (which was the Mexican fast food restaurant of my choice, at the time).

Living in the New Yorker Hotel as a first year student of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, it’s almost impossible to spend a week without eating fast food. Besides the fact that the kitchen is two floors up (and then you have to cook your own food — how appalling!), almost every fast food restaurant known to man is within a three-block radius of your living quarters (and that includes White Castle). Most importantly, directly across from the hotel is a Chipotle.

Although I had never seen a Chipotle in my life, I had heard rave reviews from my colleagues on the 14th floor, and decided to give it a try. The first couple of times I was there, I tried to stick to my tacos… but I felt like my tacos were inadequate to the massive burritos that some of my friends had purchased. Not understanding the love of burritos myself, I had decided to try one — knowing that I could always go back to my first love.

From the first time I tasted a Chipotle burrito, I was hooked. The ingredients seem to be of the finest quality, the taste unmatched. Although Chipotle used to be a under-once-a-month treat (the amount of saturated fat in one meal from Chipotle is enough to kill many small animals), my addiction has recently grown worse. In fact, I visited Chiptole three times in one week this past April. Too much? Possibly… but I don’t care.

Thing is, my Chipotle burrito addiction has begun to consume me. In fact, I just ordered a burrito from Fresh Tortillas Grill in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Expecting the Chipotle greatness, I was sorely dissappointed when I tore into the gigantic burrito that was delivered to my apartment. I was so upset with my burrito, I only ate half of it and threw the rest away.

Chipotle has ruined me, and I love it.

Chipotle = God.