One of my fondest post-high school, pre-college memories was the discovery of microwave burritos in gas stations. Not a particularly great discovery and also not a particularly clear memory, but I do remember being on some impromptu road trip–probably through Michigan–and stopping for one of those oversized, preservative-laden burritos. It was early in the morning, it seemed like a terrible idea, but it was a fantastic burrito. I was probably even drinking soda at that point. No idea where we were going–there were many impromptu Middle West road trips starting in Michigan–no idea why we weren’t eating real food, but just that ding and smell of long ago frozen ground beef, mixed with the cheapest mass produced spices. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had one of those nasty burritos and I probably never will again, but it’s a solid memory.