DENVER — The CDC this week announced a Salmonella outbreak linked to jalapeños at Chipotle and Qdoba, sickening 345 people across 27 states. And the entire country responded with a single, unified thought: “Yeah, that tracks.”

Because let’s be honest. Nobody is surprised. Chipotle has been playing Russian roulette with America’s intestines for two decades, and we all know the rules of the game. You order the burrito. You eat the burrito. You spend the next six hours wondering why you did that to yourself, and whether you’re going to make it home.

“This is not a restaurant. This is a dare,” said Marcus Jenkins, 34, of Denver, who was spotted emerging cautiously from a Chipotle location on Colfax Avenue, phone in hand, eyes scanning the horizon. “You’re not ordering lunch. You’re buying a lottery ticket for your digestive system. Sometimes you win and you’re fine. Sometimes you’re in a staff meeting at 2 p.m. doing breathing exercises. It’s the gamble that keeps us coming back.”

The outbreak is just the latest chapter in a story America has been writing together for years. Everyone has a Chipotle story. The question isn’t whether Chipotle has ever made you shit your pants. The question is whether you’re brave enough to tell the story at Thanksgiving.

“I was on a first date,” said Amber Kowalski, 27. “Great guy. Great conversation. Then the queso hit me like a freight train, and I had to tell him I was ‘going to check on the car.’ I walked four blocks to a gas station bathroom and never went back. He still thinks I got a parking ticket. Honestly? Worth it. The burrito was excellent.”

The municipal response has been swift. In Thornton, Colorado, Mayor Tom Hendricks held a press conference Thursday to announce an emergency expansion of public restroom hours, which he described as “the most important infrastructure decision of my term.”

“We’ve mapped every bathroom within a five-mile radius of every Chipotle in this city,” Hendricks said, gesturing at a laminated map of his own design. “Fire stations. Libraries. A very understanding car dealership on 84th. We are prepared, God willing, for whatever comes next.”

High school students, as always, have the most mature take on the situation.

“It’s basically a rite of passage,” said Jake Mulligan, a junior at Northglenn High School. “You eat Chipotle before a big test, you learn things about yourself. You learn the layout of every bathroom in the building. You learn which ones are always locked. You learn which teacher will pretend not to see you sprinting down the hall. It’s character building.”

Local gastroenterologists report a surge in new patients, all of whom share a similar story.

“I’ve built an entire practice on burrito regret,” said Dr. Melinda Reyes, who asked that her office not be identified. “I don’t even need to ask the intake questions anymore. They walk in, they look at me, and I say: ‘Chipotle, huh?’ And they just nod. We have a bond.”

THE CHIPOTLE GAMBLE: ODDS & OUTCOMES

  • Mild case: You feel bad about yourself and cancel your afternoon plans
  • Medium case: You learn the exact location of every gas station bathroom within 15 miles
  • Severe case: You develop a pre-burrito ritual involving prayer and a change of clothes
  • Legendary case: You become a cautionary tale told at family gatherings for years
  • The dream: You eat Chipotle and nothing happens, and for one glorious day you are unstoppable

At press time, Chipotle had not commented on the outbreak, but a sign taped to the door of a Denver location read: “BATHROOM IS FOR CUSTOMERS ONLY.” A customer was seen reading it, laughing, and sprinting toward the parking lot.

The CDC says symptoms usually begin six hours after eating. America says that’s about four hours longer than we expected.