New Yorkers really do make me laugh some times. Today’s selections of things that don’t happen in the west are not about pedestrian traffic! I escaped the office during lunch to make a call to a potential co-worker.

I decided to walk around the south east of my office, as I always tend to walk to the north east. I made the phone call and he was not in, so I left a message. I continued to walk around anyway. I passed a Wendy’s and McDonalds on Lexington before turning on 44th St. It seemed like a good street to turn on. As I walked down the street, I noticed another restaurant that was highly familiar. A burrito place.

I smiled when I saw the place, because it was familiar. From behind me I could hear a conversation between two people. One said, “I love this place.”

In reply, the other person said, “Yeah, it would never survive in L.A.”

The rest of the conversation consisted of the-guy-who-acted-like-he-was-well-versed-in-how-the-west-works defending his point. They spoke about how “bad food” would always be purchased as long as you had brand recognition. I wanted to bash my head in. The restaurant that the person was talking about was Chipotle. You know, the Chipotle that has 17 locations in Los Angeles.

Not only did Ozzy Osborne scarf down 2 of the burritos a day during one season of his reality show, but this stuff is delicious. Maybe the guy was talking about Chipotle not surviving in Louisiana. That might be true, because although there are dozens of locations in Texas, there is not one Chipotle in Louisiana. I am going to assume that is what he meant.

It isn’t even worth my time to go into explaining how Chipotle rocks and that brand recognition only stands for something if people like the food.

Anyway, after the brain-aneurysm-inducing conversation I overheard, I thought it would be better for me to just go back to work lest my brain really explode. On my walk back to the office I was walking behind a well dressed man and woman. They were co-workers and the man seemed enamored with the woman. He was holding her food and smiling as she was talking. Then something surprised me. She said, “I was hoping he would ask me out forever, and finally, when he did, I had to cancel because of this.”

My assumption that they were a couple was instantaneously crushed. And maybe the man’s desire to date her was somewhat diminished as well. Then he asked a question which seemed out of the ballpark, “Is he jewish?”

“No, I don’t date people with Yamakas.”

See, when I moved to New York I thought I would drown. After a few months I have discovered that I cannot drown: the water isn’t that deep.