I am a QIP. To borrow from Ron Burgundy, I don’t know how to put this, but I’m kind of a big deal. I’m very important. I have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.

I wasn’t always this important. I was once like everyone else, accumulating affinity cards by the dozen, with no acknowledgement that they had any effect on my behavior. Sure, I would flash my keychain at the grocery store to save a few bucks. I would even trudge back to my car to get a card when the pet store (which gives $5 off the dog food that my dog eats) makes me. But in most cases, I was already in the store buying something before I considered the store’s program.

Then, in early June, I saw a display at Qdoba offering a free chips and salsa if I signed up for their loyalty card. Every time I bought ten entrees, I would get one free. I like Qdoba. Their food is good. There is one close to Bozell. The people that work there seem nice. Why not?

Fast forward to last week. I received an e-mail informing me that I had been named a “Qdoba Important Person.” Clicking through to their website, I saw that I had visited Qdoba 22 times since registering. This took me to my calendar, where I counted 49 days in that same period during which I did not have a lunch meeting. When on my own, I had eaten at Qdoba 45% of the time. Without realizing it, what had begun innocently enough had evolved into an obsession.

I had decided to bury this new-found knowledge and find some additional lunch venues when a co-worker informed me that my name was on the wall at Qdoba, announcing my QIP standing for the entire world to see. There is at least one other Corey Meyer around Omaha, so even at this point I considered running from my destiny. But then I realized that there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to decide who he really is. Please don’t take this as arrogant, but I really am a QIP.

I would like to thank Qdoba for officially bestowing this status on me. I will not take it lightly. Even though I will now be hobnobbing with celebrities, heads of state and high rollers, I know that this is not just about the special privileges afforded me. I accept the responsibility of being held out as a role model and I will try to remember that the paparazzi are just trying to do their job. To my public, I only ask that when you see me on the other side of the velvet ropes, understand that I am a human being just like you (except that I am, obviously, a lot more important).

Any comments about this blog entry can be directed to “my people.” They may or may not get back to you. Now I have to go do something important, like go to lunch. Probably at Qdoba.