Millennial Problems: All Good Burritos Go to Heaven

One hallmark of being a millennial is living life as if everything has just happened for the first time (yes, exactly like this). The world is an amazing place when you’re just discovering it.

This was strikingly captured in a serious way with last year’s documentary “The Wolfpack,” which is about a group of — you guessed it — millennial brothers who have rarely left their New York City apartment in their brief lifetimes because their unwell father has convinced them the world outside is completely empty — or, worse, dangerous.

Mom home-schooled them, and they watched a lot of movies and cleverly re-enacted their favorites inside the apartment. Eventually they work up the courage to challenge dad and go outside. That’s when everything starts changing for the better. It’s an impressive film, and a testament to being mindful of the things we have.

What’s less impressive is the utter vapidity with which a new column about “discovering San Francisco” is being written for USA Today by a 25-year-old who moved here a few months ago — and, judging by the content, was also born only a few months ago. Where’s that face-palm emoji when you need it?

[jump] Natalie DiBlasio lives in the Mission (how fresh) — or, as she likes to call it, her “Mexican-infused neighborhood.” The fact that the Mission is home to many Central and South American residents apparently escaped her research methods, and it would be wholly more accurate to say the neighborhood is “infused” with white people like DiBlasio (credible examples are here and here).

That description of the Mission was pulled from DiBlasio’s latest column, which ruminated on the convenience of the gig economy (groundbreaking stuff) and how it creates isolation. She believes these apps exist only for people in San Francisco, despite insurmountable evidence to the contrary. It’s clear she did virtually no research to come to her conclusions, aside from pulling lines from each company’s marketing materials to describe their services (“Need groceries? Instacart picks up and delivers.”). The gig economy is worse than a parlor trick.

But the best part of all is when DiBlasio describes leaving her comfortable app-driven world and venturing out into the “Mexican-infused” neighborhood for a “burrito.” She goes to Pancho Villa, where apparently she finds Jesus:

“I saw a decade of awards hanging on the wall for best salsa, I felt the energy on the staff wrapping perfectly cylindrical burritos at light speed and heard each order called out in Spanish and English. The burrito tasted better when I could appreciate the soul that went into making it. A feeling you just don't get from a third-party app.” 

Ay dios mio! We’re wondering how much she tipped for this soul-stirring experience, but perhaps we’ll have to wait for next week’s wisdom column. If you want to follow DiBlasio’s exploits, she’s on Twitter and being paid to write for the third-largest circulation newspaper in the nation, which is easy to find at 7-Eleven. We’d suggest a therapist instead.

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