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"FacebookPinterest\n\nYesterday, Mitt Romney stopped in a Chipotle in Denver for lunch with Senator Rob Portman of Ohio. He ordered a pork burrito with black beans, salsa, hot sauce, and guacamole, and took photographs with the Chipotle staff and some of the diners.\n\n As a Chipotle lover and a serious journalist, I decided to reenact Mitt Romney's Chipotle experience from the perspective of Mitt Romney to see what lessons could be divined about the deeply private Republican running for President. Unfortunately GQ wouldn't pay to send me to Denver (DEATH OF PRINT JOURNALISM) and Senator Rob Portman did not return my DM on Twitter. So I settled on reenacting Mitt's lunch at the Chipotle located five blocks away from my office with two of my coworkers, both named Mark for our shared convenience.\n\n When I stepped into the Chipotle there was a blast of spiced air, which reminded me of a Park Hyatt resort in Mexico. The lighting was moody and dim, like hope in America. When I reached the counter, the woman who typically readies my order two or three times a week flashed me a familial smile and said, \"Hello! How are you today?\" I pretended not to know her. \"I'll take a burrito bowl with rice and black beans and...\" (Vegetables? Did he order vegetables? I couldn't remember. Fuck.) I panicked, \"Vegetables.\" Frantically I scrolled down my phone. He hadn't ordered vegetables. This could be the gaffe that changes the entire direction of the piece. \"Sir,\" I addressed the next person on the counter assembly line, trying to recover. \"Could you please remove all of those vegetables from my bowl?\" He graciously acquiesced, plucking out stray greens with his fingers, but in his rush, he missed more than a few onions. \"How long have you had this job?\" I inquired.\n\n I received a plentiful portion of pork, and a dollop of hot sauce. (\"Not too much!\" I warned, putting a palm over my pale abdomen.) \"Oh, and I'll have guacamole,\" I added. \"That'll be $1.25 extra, ok?\" the woman told me holding a scoop approximately the size of a four-month-old fetus over my bowl. \"I will accept that additional charge,\" I replied confidently, remembering the size of my fictional bank account.\n\n When it was finished and ready to purchase, the bowl Iordered looked beautiful. I held it up, extending it out from my chest like Rafiki hoisting Simba to the sun, and proclaimed to the line of workers: \"You built this! YOU, YOU, and YOU. YOU BUILT IT! And I'm going to eat it!\" No response. \"This is what America's about!\" I added emphatically. The cashier before me seemed confused, \"Is there something wrong with your order, Miss?\"\n\n\"No,\" I replied with a smile, \"it looks very good.\"\n\n \"Now I believe we should take a picture,\" I announced to the cashier as I saddled behind the counter beside her.\n\n\"Are you excited that Mitt Romney in the form of me is visiting your Chipotle today?\" I asked.\n\n\"What? Mitt Romney was here?\" she sounded worried.\n\n\"In a way,\" I told her.\n\n The Marks and I found a spot at a communal table, where many customers would be able to talk to me and text their loved ones and friendsabout it. I tried being friendly and relatable as we ate, even though I disliked the feel of the cold metal table on my elbow. \"Who let the dogs out?\" I joked. \"I did once! On the car roof!\" I pointed at my pork: \"Hey, do you think maybe this is dog?\" The Marks looked slightly bemused.\n\n As I sat there, next to fellow countrymen, enjoying my Chipotle, I couldn't help but notice how all the disparate items mid together in the bowl was the perfect metaphor for America. Each item had its distinct flavor, but together in one bowl, reinforced with secure cardboard borders, it amounted to a uniquely glorious-tasting hodge-podge. Sure, the pork was a little bland. But its blandness only reinforced the fieriness of the pico de gallo. Everything was part of a delicate balance. Right then, I loved this bowl, this country.\n\n After we were finished, I turned toward the counter and gave a small wave. \"Thank you\" I mouthed to America's service workers. And then I hurried out of the Chipotle, and ducked into a black car waiting outside.*\n\n *Which I had to get out of, as it wasn't for me."^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.gq.com/story/gq-reenacts-mitt-romneys-trip-to-chipotle>