Deeper than the canyons in the Pacific and more intense than the burn of a Monday morning rash after an interesting weekend, you need something to fill you up, pronto.

The cafeterias are not going to cut it, so you hussle down to Brown Street and run to that oasis of college living, Chipotle Mexican Grill. There is something, however, that accompanies your brief culinary excursion south of the border that you may not have realized'the Chipotle stare.

Don't act like you haven't experienced it. I know you have.

You open the doors and it slaps you in the face like a Walleye fresh from Lake Erie. Dozens of eyeballs staring right at you.

If it weren't for the hunger pains you would be out of there lickity-split. A meeting has been scheduled with the god of inexpensive Mexican cuisine and being late is not an option, so you forge on. This is such an unpleasant experience that some have given up on Chipotle completely. Though, these are the same individuals that tend to consider themselves experts in both Lord of the Rings and Star Trek: The Next Generation. Make of this what you will.

The Chipotle stare is at its worst when you're alone. The attraction to look at you is stronger when you fly solo and their glances feel like lasers. The patrons sense your weakness and prey on it. Your only defense is to look right back as they gorge themselves.

The Burrito's are sort of like a Milwaukee's Best Light. Great flavor, but they do not finish clean.

They look at you, you look at them. It is awkward central. I always see people I kind of know and am never sure whether to say hello. I usually just avoid them all together and then feel like something worse than a jerk if they acknowledge me. It makes me want to run crying out the back door. Oh, the life of a post-adolescent, pre-adult male!

I recently kicked up my lunch break several notches with a midday visit. (Chipotle for lunch may be the coolest thing I have done in a long time.) If you ever get the chance to do this, it is quite a different experience from the dinner crowd.

You walk in and are immediately immersed into a working-world get-together. All the adults are wearing their work I.D.'s, which always strikes me as weird, and they are going to town on their burritos.

I thought I.D.'s were only required for international travel and getting into Timothy's Bar and Grill. Alas, I stand corrected.

This lunch time group is an eclectic one, sometimes with police officers stopping by on their break.

I don't know about you, but whenever I see a police officer in a public place I always glance at the handgun in its holster. Maybe it's from fear, maybe its from jealously. For whatever reason, the possibility of leaving Chipotle with more than a burrito in my stomach as a result of the gun going off is always unsettling. Or, perhaps the whole 'cops and robbers' thing from my game-playing-days have made real guns a terrifying and interesting fascination.

So, next time you want to feel awkward and have lots of people staring at you, don't sign up for a play or start a band, drop what you're doing and pay a visit to Chipotle.