I recently visited Yale University. You may have heard of it. It's quite a prestigious school, really, sometimes called "the Grove City College of the Ivy League".
I walked the grounds and was awestruck by the mystique of the campus... the old buildings, the secret societies, the really smart people.... and I was hungry. In front of me, at the edge of campus, outside of what appeared to be a trendy coffee shop was a street burrito vendor. Involuntarily, I shelled out $5.50 for a juicy, drippy, stuffed chicken burrito.
I continued my tour of the elite campus, munching on my burrito as if it were an ice cream cone, chicken juices dripping onto my shoes. It didn't dawn on me until I took my last bite that people had been staring at the wide-eyed open-mouthed guy with the oversized burrito traversing the hallowed Yale walkways. I wiped the last bit of cheese from the corner of my mouth when I realized that Yalies don't walk around chomping on burritos; they sipped lattes.
I was the country mouse visiting the big city for the first time. Yale majors on delicacy and sophistication. I'm a burrito noshing juggernaut.