Adios, Old Friend

Once I had a friend who lived a few towns over from my town.  We didn’t get to see each other all that often, but when we did it was like no time had passed.  Sadly, we lost touch and the last time I tried to swing by for a visit, I discovered that they had moved.  As I drove home feeling forlorn I saw a wonderous site!  My friend had moved to my town, within two miles of my house.  I couldn’t wait to go visit.  I gave them some time to unpack and get settled and then I went by.  Unfortunately, things weren’t the same.  Maybe it is because they just got there I thought.  So I gave them some more time, and tried again with the same results.  Finally, I gave them one final shot to be my “old friend”.  They were distant, uncaring, and not the person I knew.  The time had come to move on.

My old friend is a place that holds special memories for me in Chapel Hill.  The Flying Burrito was awesome.  I remember when my cousin, Mike, used to take me there as a kid.  When I went to Carolina, it became a go-to place.  Solid food, cool atmosphere, and it was cheap.  I would go back for dinner with the boss and the girls as we could and I enjoyed introducing my old haunts to the kids.  Last year, after a women’s basketball game we tried to go by for dinner only to discover that they had closed and were moving to Raleigh.

It is with a heavy heart that I report the place just ain’t the same after the move.  I went by last Friday to give them a third and final shot to be my old friend.  I was flying solo, so I sat at the bar.  It took over 10 minutes to get a drink.  I believe that I shouldn’t have to flag down a bartender in a place with only 8 of 16 barstools occupied.  They have no gluten-free beer, so I went with the house margarita.  Eh.  Too sweet and mostly devoid of tequila.  For my food, I ordered the flying chicken without the tortilla.  My dinner was also uninspired and bland.  There was little by way of seasoning or effort on the part of the kitchen.  From the waitstaff to the food, The Flying Burrito has become a shell of the restaurant I used to love in Chapel Hill.  It almost feels like they don’t care anymore.  Like with old friends, when one person tries and the other doesn’t, you almost wish they had just faded away leaving you with fond memories.  Good bye friend, we’ll always have the Hill.

 

 

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