Some Enchanted Evening

While I was on Spring Break I found out I was scheduled to be in a burrito eating competition. I was invited on Facebook to the event, held a Qdoba, which featured five BYX brothers competing against five guys off the street. Among the list was Tron McKnight, which, if you're here, you know as my alter ego.

Before I go forward, I want to say I prefer Flying Burrito to Qdoba because I think any burrito making establishment which does not offer refried beans is elitist.

I'm not an eater. I'm a fighter. A fighter pilot. I was trained by video games. The point is, I don't eat a lot since I stopped working out eight years ago. Besides, I was going up against David Norris, who ate fifteen pancakes in under sixty seconds at the ZTA Crowning of Champions fraternity competition. I figured I was just there as a dancing monkey. They expected me to do something crazy. So I did.

In preparation, immediately before I ate two eggs benedict and a brownie. It was Breakfast for Dinner Night and the Kappa house, and I can't resist that. I did wear an old shirt, athletic shorts and sandals. I was going to get dirty.

The day of the competition, when they said go, instead of eating the burrito like everyone, I started rubbing it all over my face. I opened the top and mashed the rice and pinto beans into my eyebrows. I was eating through osmosis, I told the judge. After covering my beard in cheese, I asked for water, but instead of taking the paper cup which was poured for me, I took the water pitcher and poured it on my face. I'm a pro at getting dirty. I get paid to do this entertaining kids at summer camp.

After maybe a minute and a half someone took my burrito away from me. As it turned out, this was a team competition; five on five. David Norris had not only eaten his burrito, but also the burrito of Firechief, who sat next to me. Firechief is a short stocky freshman and I have no idea why we call him that. But we won. Easily.

I decided to walk home. The weather was warm, and I needed time to pick the chicken out of my hair. But on the next block I saw a large, well dressed crowd entering the Walton Arts Center. It was the opening night of South Pacific. I had never seen the show, so on a whim I asked the box office if there were any student tickets. They said Wednesday was the only day for student tickets, and they had one left on the second row of the balcony. I took it. It was fifteen minutes before the performance started - just enough time to wash my face.

When I sat down, I realize that though I had washed my face, I not only still smelled like burrito, but my shorts were soaking wet. Also, I was wearing a bean stained white v-neck, and the men on either side of me were in suits. Oh well.

The show was great. I fell in love with whoever played Nellie - that dame could sing. At intermission both men who sat beside me switched places with their wives.