Antique Burrito

There are signs out west here and there that say things like "LAST GAS FOR 70 MILES". I like to stop at those kinds of places. The last one I stopped at was in some dot on the highway town in Nevada. For a hundred miles in every direction from that place, there was nothing but dirt, mountains, and sagebrush. Of course, there are some interesting sights out that way sprinkled in the bare wilderness. There's a mountain out in the Great Basin that has a grove of bristlecone pines, which are the oldest trees in the world. I saw one that was 4,000 some years old.

That tree wasn't the only unusually old thing I found in that town. The only place to eat was a combo motel, gas station, general store. And the pickings were slim indeed. I wasn't in the mood for jerky or chips, so I made my way to the freezer. It was an ancient contraption with charming veins of rust snaking up its forlorn sides. I had to open the lid to see inside. There were a few popsicles and a footlong lump covered in frost. I brushed off the frost and saw that it was a beef and bean burrito. Unfortunately, the best before date had been smudged into illegibility during the burrito's long hibernation. As I turned it over in my hands, I felt as though it was almost a holy relic of sorts; truly it was an artifact of a bygone era. 

It struck me then it would almost be a crime to eat such a rare specimen. I read once as a boy that Teddy Roosevelt ate mammoth meat. Turns out that story was a confabulation. Mammoth meat was supposedly served for an Explorers Club dinner at the Roosevelt Hotel in 1951, but DNA tests on the leftovers decades later revealed it was actually sea turtle meat. Shame on those dastardly culinary counterfeiters. The gullible diners went home that night bragging they had dined on the flesh of a prehistoric beast found in the arctic by a mysterious Jesuit-turned geologist called The Glacier Priest. The story was a wild pack of lies, of course, but the world is full of people ready to believe tall tales.  

If I didn't at least buy the burrito, it was sure to be thrown away at some point, though that day might be a decade or more hence. Surely, for the sake of science and posterity, I should document my discovery. It was not quite in the same category as Otzi, the so-called Iceman who was discovered in the Alps after being frozen for 5,000 years. The urge to study it in detail consumed me. I seized the burrito and took it to the cashier along with some chips, jerky, and beer. It was going to be a great night for burrito science. As I plopped the burrito down on the counter, the clerk raised an eyebrow and gave me an incredulous look. 

He had gaunt and haggard appearance. It's about what I'd expect from someone who spent years in a desolate wilderness. His face was friendly though it was clear he appreciated the solitude of being far off the beaten path. I was curious about what he would say next. 

"You're not really going to eat that, are you? I've been working here for eight years, and that thing was in the freezer when I got here."

"Interesting. You didn't throw it away and neither did your predecessors. I'm not going to eat it, but I do want to study it and find out how old it is. The best before date on the wrapper is smudged. If I can get a good look at the wrapper, I might be able to find out when it was made."

"Well, everybody needs a hobby, I guess. It'd be a crime to charge anyone for that thing. Just take it and do whatever you want with it. I'll tell the owner someone finally bought it. He's a notorious penny pincher and he never likes anything to go to waste."

"No, I'll pay. It's only fair. If anything interesting comes up in my research, I'll let you know. Here's my business card so you can contact me. Also, I'll need a room for the night."

"Lucky you, we have plenty of vacant rooms, as usual. I'll put you up in the rock star suite. It's the one room with a TV."

"Splendid, and it was a pleasure doing business with you and this fine establishment."

The thing about people who live in the back of beyond is they generally have a great sense of humor. It is often as dry as their surroundings. 

Once I had unpacked and settled into my room, it was time for the dissection to begin. The frost was all gone and I now could examine the packaging more carefully. I removed it as though I was handling the Shroud of Turin. I didn't want to tear it, and after a few tense minutes, I had it all off in one piece. I spread it flat and took a picture of it with my phone. It was from a brand I've never heard of: Don Diablo. On the wrapper, a cartoon devil leered at me and gave a toothy, sinister smile. I searched online for the Don Diablo website, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to be found. Now I was getting nervous. There is hardly a single fact so obscure that there isn't something on the internet about it. 

The burrito itself was an odd sight as well. There wasn't the slightest sign of freezer burn or any other spoilage. Dare I microwave it to see what it smells like when ready to eat? I put it in the microwave to warm it. Within a few seconds, an enchanting aroma filled my room. It was the scent of fine Mexican cuisine, savory and fresh. I couldn't believe such a scent could come from a gas station frozen burrito. 

I ran back to the store to fetch the cashier, for I knew he would be interested in this bizarre turn of events. We returned to the room which was now filled with an overpowering and delightful smell. It was almost as though the burrito somehow wanted us to eat it. 

"If you have a dog, we can feed a piece to it and see what happens", I suggested.

The clerk left and returned with his dog. He broke off a small piece and fed it to the dog. We watched it with trepidation for the next several minutes. The dog seemed fine, and it was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation to eat the remainder.

We split what was left and devoured it. Not only was it the most delicious burrito I've ever eaten, it was the best thing I've ever tasted. Not longer after, I was overcome with fatigue and decided it was time for bed. I fell asleep quickly.

What happened next is a mystery, though I did have terrible nightmares. All three of us including the dog woke up in the dirt a few miles from town. Dazed and confused, we groggily trudged back in.   

I packed up and prepared to leave. As I was about to embark, I suddenly felt a strange urge to look in the freezer again. What I saw horrified me. I called over the cashier to come see it. There in the freezer lay three burritos identical to the one I had bought. When I was back home, I got a letter from the cashier. In it, he lamented that his dog disappeared without a trace. It happened not long after someone bought and ate one of the mystery burritos. A coincidence, perhaps, but the cashier wrote that he hid one burrito in the back of his own freezer and mailed the other one to me. I stashed it in the back of my freezer. Some things are better left hidden. I hope and pray it is never found.