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| - The theme of today's Yelp is: Know Thyself.
Know thyself, filibertos. Here's what you aren't: Houston's. I don't need an open kitchen and I certainly don't need to wait for thirty minutes to get my burrito.
Know thyself: you aren't so busy that you need to give out numbers and then call out the orders by their numbers only. Hey, lady: no one wants the receipt. We throw it away once you hand it to us. We earnestly wish you never gave it to us in the first place. So no, we don't remember the number. We don't understand why you're so annoyed that no one is responding to you when you call out some number. I ordered a sausage burrito, not a 1473, so I don't know why you're yelling out numbers and looking huffy.
Furthermore, give us some visual cue: for example, if you ask me if I want it for here or to go, and I choose "for here," I won't think that a burrito in a paper bag is mine, no matter what number you're calling.
Know thyself: at every other Filibertos, the food *is* the entertainment. We go there to drown in a bliss that can only be made up of butter/greasy butter substitute and delightfulness. Not for the TVs. And when you have two TVs next to each other, you don't need the volume on for both. Because this creates, at best, an Echo Effect. This effect makes whoever is talking sound like God in some deus ex machina stage presentation. Which is terrifying when it's the voice of Bill Austin on Beth and Bill. I can only assume I have kicked one too many innocent dogs (I never kick dogs) and I am roasting in hell. I would now like to trade in the eternity of Beth and Bill for an eternity of sixth degree burns, please.
Here is the quintessential failure of this Filibertos: the food is shit. The green sauce has the consistency of applesauce--a fact which makes me want to puke. The burrito was filled with what can only be fake eggs, and tons of them. Not much in the way of sausage and I'm pretty sure it was made of something that used to be someone's pet. And the river of cheese on the side had coagulated. Worst of all, the nefarious garlic monster has once again shat in my mouth and I now see plants wilting in my wake.
Don't ever go to this place. Use your mighty dollar vote and go elsewhere. Because all the good that Filibertos has done in this world is under threat by this fucking impostor.
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My wife read the review, and by "read" I mean listened while I read it to her, and she fears I might be giving all Filibertos a bad name. No. Only this one sucks. She says you should go to the one on McQueen and Pecos, and she is, as usual, right.
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