Give Us a Twirl

I'm fortunate enough to have traveled a fair bit in my youth, and because of that I developed a pretty healthy travel bug that's never gone away. Through my travels I've been to four continents and called two of them home. I'll probably be able to knock out two more with visits, but Antarctica will likely remain as an unchecked bucket list item.

As much as I get around, I'm not super outgoing or sociable. I do make friends wherever I end up, but it's typically more of a tight, small group than a huge social circle. Very much a "quality over quantity" thing.

That's how it went in high school and college, as well as the military. I settled down in the Pacific Northwest after that particular adventure was over, and that's where I met Jenna.

Whenever I move somewhere new, I tend to meet the first few people online. It's pretty safe, very low-stress, and I can do it without dressing up. We crossed paths one spring on a local hangout forum where the best burrito in the area was the topic of discussion. "Discussion" is probably putting too nice a face on it.

It was a warzone.

Battle lines had been drawn early, with Burrito Barge (well-known for their almost-too-big-to-eat burritos and spicy fish fingers) on one side and Witchin' Kitchen (famous for their massive list of ingredients used in their "bewitching burrito concoctions") on the other. I was team BB and she was WK all the way. We were civil in our discussions of why we'd each chosen the right side, and weren't just flaming each other like most others on the forum were. In fact, it was because we were actually angering our respective factions by being so polite to one another that we decided to meet up in person.

The only way to resolve the dispute was to dine with the enemy.

Like any civilized warring parties, we drew up terms.

We would take turns hosting each other at our chosen restaurant.

The host would pay for the guest's meal, but no more than $12.

The host could make suggestions and offer advice, but the guest was ultimately in charge of choosing what they'd eat.

The guest could not commit acts of self-sabotage to "prove" the host's restaurant was bad.

Only after we'd both tried the other's chosen restaurant, were we allowed to say what we thought about them both. Also, we had to post our honest opinions in the forum.

We settled on doing the comparisons on two consecutive Thursday afternoons, figuring we'd get to see each restaurant at their best. They wouldn't be slammed with lunch, dinner, or weekend rushes, nor would they be fed up from dealing with customers hating on Mondays. I offered to try Witchin' Kitchen first, but Jenna insisted on using an online coin toss to make things fair. She won the toss, earning the right to choose who had to cross to the other side first.

She chose Witchin' Kitchen.

I wasn't sure why we needed the coin toss if we were going to hit up WK first, but didn't want to ask in case this was some sort of mind game. It wouldn't have mattered if it was. This wasn't about minds, it was about guts.

With the terms agreed to and the first restaurant chosen, the only decision left was the date. Neither of us felt like stretching this out, as we were both eager to see the other proven wrong, so we decided to kick things off that same week. We made plans to meet up on Thursday at 2:00 in front of WK.

We'd been so focused on the details of the challenge we'd created, that we forgot the most important detail - how to recognize each other. It wasn't until I was on the bus heading uptown that I realized I had no idea how to find her. I didn't know her real name, what she looked like, what she'd be wearing - nothing! I pulled out my phone and sent a quick DM on the forum to ask how I'd recognize her, and hoped she'd get it in time. Thankfully, she did, but her reply was a lot briefer than I'd expected.

"Purple hair," was all it said.

The bus stop was only about half a block from WK, and I started scanning the area for anybody with purple hair as I walked towards the restaurant. It didn't take too long to find Jenna, especially since she was right in front of Witchin' Kitchen. She was facing the other direction, but since there was no one else around with purple hair, I felt it was safe to approach. "Are the burritos here really all that?"

"Only somebody who likes Burrito Barge would ask such a question."

"And only somebody who's never eaten at Burrito Barge would think that was wise to say."

We both laughed, satisfied that we had successfully identified each other. After exchanging names - it wouldn't have done to just sneer restaurant names at each other - and pronouns (Jon, he/him - Jenna, she/her), we went inside so she could show me what all the fuss was about.

The array of ingredients on hand was impressive. It was easily more than double what Burrito Barge had to offer. Tortilla flavors, meat varieties, veggies, cheeses, toppings, sauces - there was a LOT to choose from. I took a stab at creating my own burrito, rather than ordering straight off the menu, listing off my picks and asking Jenna for her thoughts. She suggested swapping out a couple toppings and adding a second sauce. It was unlikely she was setting me up for failure, especially since she ordered an identical burrito for herself. Keeping with the terms of our agreement, she paid for the burritos, but I insisted on paying for the drinks, and got lemonades for both of us.

We were spot on with our plan about the best time to come, and had no trouble getting a table. After we took our seats, she waited for me to unwrap the foil on my burrito and take the first bite. I did, and before I'd even swallowed the first one, I had to have a second. Grinning like somebody who'd just won a bet, she unwrapped her burrito and joined me in feasting.

Not wanting to violate the rules we'd laid out, there was no discussion about the food. We had plenty more to talk about - music, books, movies, boardgames - and it seemed like we were in sync on just about everything.

Just not burritos.

By the time we'd finished eating, we'd mostly forgotten why we were there to begin with. We were getting on so well, that we carried on chatting long after our food was gone and our glasses were empty. Eventually, the staff were giving us looks and their message was received loud and clear. We bussed our table and went outside, only then realizing that the afternoon was swiftly giving way to evening.

Jenna suggested grabbing coffee, and while her offer was tempting, I suggested saving any non-burrito related goings-on until after we'd gone to Burrito Barge the following week. Better to wrap this up and see what sort of terms we were on then. She agreed, but it was obvious she would have been fine with spending more time together. Honestly, I would have too, but I didn't think I'd be able to keep from talking about how damned good that burrito was.

I was NOT about to give her the satisfaction of me breaking the rules.

We did chat more online over the following days, trading recommendations of things to read, watch, or play, keeping with the "everything but burritos" conversation we'd had at Witchin' Kitchen. The week was unbearably long, and it felt like an eternity before Thursday rolled around again.

Burrito Barge was just a short walk from my place, and it was very easy to meet up at, since there was a bus stop right out front. That wasn't by accident either. This was a working-class neighborhood, not too far from the port, and many people took the bus to and from their jobs. The inbound stop was on the same side of the street as the restaurant, and the outbound one sat on the other side of the crosswalk. Burrito Barge was open from 5 A.M. to 3 P.M., and then again from 5 P.M. to 1 A.M. It was run by two cousins who were each in charge of one of the shifts. Their hours covered all three meals, and they were usually slammed for all three. The day of the week didn't really matter.

I'd gotten there a few minutes before the bus was due and waited for Jenna at the outbound bus stop. We greeted each other with a wave when she got off, and agreed that it was good to see each other again. As the bus pulled away, she got her first good look at Burrito Barge, in all its nondescript, red brick glory. Admittedly, their sign was pretty bad, done either by a family member or by a starving artist in exchange for food. It was nothing more than a massive burrito floating in the water, with the name of the restaurant running down its side.

"That?" Jenna pointed. "That's what you're going to war for?"

"Books and covers. You gotta trust me on this one."

"If nothing else, it'll be free food and a good laugh. Lead on."

Her skepticism was easy enough to understand. The building was as plain as it could be, the sign was bad, and the name was silly. None of that mattered. The flavor did, and Burrito Barge had it by the, well, barge-load. When we got inside, she was clearly unimpressed by the menu. Only flour tortillas, just three kinds of meat (chicken, beef, and pork), beans, a few basic veggies, guac, sour cream, two levels of hot sauce, and only one kind of cheese. There was nothing artisanal on the menu at BB.

Not being sure what to do with the limited menu, Jenna asked for suggestions. I told her to get whatever she thought sounded good, since there were no bad choices. She remained doubtful, but ordered anyway. She was well under the $12 limit, so I added an order of spicy fish fingers for her when I ordered my food. The crew at BB works fast, and our burritos were ready almost as quickly as the drinks were.

We settled into a booth with worn vinyl benches, and I waited for her to dig in, just like she had with me the previous week. Ready to be underwhelmed, she tore back a strip of foil and had her first taste. When we were at Witchin' Kitchen, I'd taken a second bite immediately after the first. Jenna went past that and right into her third before the first had even left her mouth.

"Holy fhit!"

She wasn't able to wait until her mouth was empty, and I'm sure my grin was even wider and more self-satisfied than hers had been. Still, I didn't say anything, instead choosing to unwrap my treasure and share in the joy with her. Once she'd swallowed, she looked at me, waiting for me to say something. I just kept eating, smiling the entire time, still certain that if anybody was going to break the terms of our agreement, it wasn't going to be me.

Not that we didn't talk during that meal. We quickly got to chatting about what we'd seen and read over the past week, and also revealed more personal information about ourselves. We both lived within a few blocks of our chosen burrito places, and neither of us owned a car, though we knew how to drive. We'd attended college - me stopping with a B.S, while she was currently pursuing her Master's. I was five years older than her, so while most of our pop culture knowledge was in sync, there were a few of my references that prompted some googling.

The mid-day closing time was coming up fast, and we didn't want to overstay our welcome two weeks in a row, so we cleaned up our stuff and headed out. This time I suggested coffee, and was very relieved when she agreed. We had satisfied all the rules we'd laid out, but I was worried she may have held last week's rejection of her offer against me.

I was clearly foolish to have thought that.

Coffee lasted a couple hours, during which we had the burrito conversation. We immediately agreed that both places were amazing for their own reasons, and that it wasn't impossible to enjoy what they both had to offer, even if you did prefer one over the other. If you wanted something fancy and supremely customisable, Witchin' Kitchen was the place to go. If all you were after was a fast, filling, perfectly-seasoned meal, Burrito Barge had you covered. It wasn't even a rich versus poor thing. Sure, a dollar went further at BB, but not that much further. We concluded that people were just being stubborn, unwilling to admit that they could like two different places, and probably too lazy to go outside their own neighborhoods to try something different. After having tried both restaurants, we were in agreement that it was a really dumb hill to die on, and we couldn't wait to tell everybody.

Rather than head back to our own apartments and post our findings on the forum, cutting our time together short, I suggested we head back to my place. I had a laptop as well as a desktop, so we wouldn't even have to take turns posting. Jenna agreed and we went to my apartment. I lived in a fairly basic one-bedroom unit, but the rooms were big for what I paid, thanks to the neighborhood bordering a semi-industrial zone. I set Jenna up with my laptop at the kitchen counter while I used the PC in the living room. We wrote in silence for about 15 minutes, looked at each other, then hit publish at the same time.

It was obvious we both wanted to do nothing more than repeatedly smash F5 to see the reactions as they came in, but we also knew we'd make ourselves crazy doing that. Jenna felt we'd be better off grabbing a light dinner and giving things time to happen on their own, without us hovering over our screens. As much as I wanted to see everything unfold in real time, I knew she was right. We were both pretty full from our late lunch, so we decided to go easy on our stomachs and just get some basic sandwiches and a couple sodas from the deli up the street. The weather was decent, and there was still some daylight left, so we made a picnic out of it in the park. The temptation to check the forum on our phones was maddening, but we kept each other strong with talk of other places in the city we'd come to love.

Like me, Jenna wasn't from here originally. She grew up in Canada and was just here to study - for now anyway. She hadn't decided if she liked the city enough for it to be a forever home, but she was definitely content here. I told her about the different places I'd lived, both in the U.S. and abroad, and we agreed that it was best to experience as many places as possible before settling down in one spot.

The conversation lasted much longer than our sandwiches and drinks, and it was about to outlast the daylight. We left the park before twilight was fully upon us and headed back to my place to see what we had wrought. If we had known we'd unleashed, we probably would've stayed in the park all night.

Upon logging in, we both had way more notifications than we'd ever had before, and knew something was up. Rather than read through things in our inboxes, we went to the "burrito battle" topic and started reading the reactions to what we'd posted. If the topic had been a warzone before, it was an ongoing nuclear holocaust now. People on both sides of the debate had united - in their hatred of us. That we would have the audacity to actually eat at the "other" restaurant was an affront nobody could accept. The suggestion that preference had anything to do with proximity was probably the most offensive thing we'd said, as it was taken to imply that people had no taste and merely ate what was convenient.

"Are these people for real?" Jenna asked.

"I really don't know anymore."

We read for another half an hour, but things only got worse from there. The attacks against us grew increasingly personal, and our past posts from other topics were being used to infer things about us that were wildly incorrect, but still hurtful to read just the same. New notifications kept pouring in, and we both got PRIORITY ones at about the same time. These ones were from the site owner, and informed us that we were being banned from the forum for "flame-baiting and contributing to an overly hostile environment."

"I think I'm done," Jenna said.

I showed solidarity with her statement by shutting down my PC. I walked over to the counter where she was sitting, closed the laptop, then hugged her from behind. She clearly needed more than that, and stood up so that we could hug each other properly. As she embraced me, it was obvious that I was very much in need of a proper hug as well. Neither one of us wanted to talk much, but we also didn't want to be alone either.

"You can crash here if you want."

Jenna nodded her acceptance of the offer without breaking the hug, and we stood together for a while. Holding each other, we could feel our nerves settling, heart rates slowing, and our breathing starting to sync up. The negativity from what had happened on the forum wasn't going to disappear entirely, but we could at least give ourselves something better to focus on.

I was the first to speak, and to pull back from the hug. "Let me get you some stuff."

Jenna lowered her arms, and I went down the hall, first to the bathroom, then to my bedroom. When I came back to the living room, she was sitting on the couch, hands in her lap. I handed her the stack I had gathered up. Bath towel, sweatpants, hoodie, a pair of boxers, a t-shirt, and a new toothbrush.

"There should be something here that'll work for you."

"Thanks. Is it cool if I shower first?"

I told her it was and pointed her in the right direction. I thought about occupying myself with my phone while she was getting cleaned up, but didn't really trust myself not to check the forum or other social media. I grabbed a photography magazine instead, and busied myself by flipping through reviews of lenses I couldn't afford and looking at pictures of places I'd never been.

When Jenna returned from the bathroom she was wearing the sweats and hoodie, and was ruffling her wet hair with the towel she'd draped around her neck.

"I'm not sure if I feel better, but at least I feel better. If that makes any sense," she said.

"Yeah, I totally understand. You okay if I go ahead?"

"Only if I can get another hug."

In the moment, that felt like the best deal anybody had ever offered me. I set the magazine down and got up from the couch, eager to take her in my arms again. We held each other just as closely as before, except maybe with a little more swaying back and forth. She nuzzled into my chest and I rested my cheek on her damp hair. Holding her like that, I realized how much better my soap and shampoo smelled when they were on somebody else's body and hair.

That time it was Jenna that pulled back first.

"I'm probably gonna need a few more of those tonight, if that's all right," she said.

"More than all right."

I took my time in the shower, but not too long. I made sure to get properly clean, and then spent the rest of the time just letting the warm water wash over me. It wasn't quite as good for de-stressing as a soak in the tub, but did well enough. After finishing up and getting dry, I threw on a pair of boxers, some gym shorts and a t-shirt. It was more than I'd normally wear at home this time of year, but this wasn't exactly a normal day.

When I rejoined Jenna in the living room, she was looking at the modest library I'd assembled. I never bought too many books while traveling around, but whenever I stayed in one place for more than a few months, a collection started forming. Secondhand shops, library book sales, neighbors moving out and looking to travel light - if there was a way to get stuff worth reading that I also wouldn't mind losing if life had me taking off somewhere else, I'd take advantage of it. I did have a sizable digital collection as well, for commuting and longer trips, but for regular, daily reading, paper couldn't be matched.

I couldn't see her face from where I was standing at the doorway, but her posture seemed a little more relaxed than it had been earlier. Still, I didn't want to startle her, so I asked from the doorway if she needed anything.

"A real drink?" Jenna responded, turning towards me.

I ran down the options available - wine, beer, a few harder selections and several things to mix them with - and she settled on beer. I didn't want to turn choosing a drink into a quiz, so I grabbed two different kinds from the fridge and brought them over by the bookshelves to let her pick. She opted for the lager, leaving the IPA for me. We popped them open at the same time and she held hers up, offering a somewhat non-traditional toast.