The fact that Smoke's branch-off Burritorie, which apparently specializes in burritos (to complement their poutine?), would be holding a $1 burrito deal on their grand opening day did not go unheard within the community. However, details were few, and doubtful comments aplenty.
"How bad could it possibly be?" I thought, "Concert lineups like this usually clear within half an hour. It should be fine."
But I had forgotten that this was Toronto, and lines always tend to move unnecessarily slow. Unlike the suburban areas of takeout restaurants, people that operate the small, independent stores here are inefficient, not to mention prone to favouring their friends over famished customers.
Nacho chips and small containers of salsa were handed out, but the rude guy handing them out decided to exclude me completely.
As a passerby stopped to question the contents in the packets being distributed, he replied with a cheerful, "Oh, we're giving these out to the people that have been waiting for a while." He then returned to his packet-delivering, glancing in disgust at my outstretched hands. The words that emerged from his mouth formed the most disgusting sentence I could have ever heard from a customer service representative:
"We don't have enough. Just share with the person behind you."
While every other person in front of me, including the two acquaintances in the immediately preceding spots, EACH received an individual packet, I was commanded to share a tiny packet of nachos with a complete stranger.
HAVE I ANGERED YOU WITH MY OUTSTRETCHED HANDS, MISTER?!?!
The stranger was a nice person, though, and let me have most of the chips. But this highly derogatory attitude is convincing enough for me to NEVER bother to try Smoke's ever again.
In the end, I didn't try Smoke's even once. Over an hour had elapsed, and the line hadn't progressed a single inch since the chips had been provided.
My lunch hour was up, and I hadn't munched on anything besides those nachos - which mind you, had turned bitter in my mouth from emotions experienced due to an extreme lack of respect. I couldn't wait any longer, and headed inside to Burrito Boyz instead.
They worked in an assembly line, where the girl at the cashier would ring you through and pass on the order slip to the "topping" girls. The burritos were then handed to the kitchen staff to add your filling of choice and grill the exterior of the wrap. Overall, it was a considerably efficient process: it took no more than ten minutes to place the order, have it made, and be delivered to customers.
For the price that was charged, I could have easily purchased a drink and cookie from Starbucks. But as I unwrapped the burrito soon after, I realized that the portion was much greater that I had originally anticipated.
I ordered a small Chicken Burrito, and while it was packed with a diverse range of flavours and textures, it didn't quite distinguish itself to a degree that would willingly convince me to repurchase. But then again, I may just not be the biggest fan of carbs on carbs on carbs.