The conversation I had today at a local taqueria:

Oh-So-Helpful-Worker-Bee: Hallo! What you like?

Jester: I would like 2 “El Gringo Tacos,” please. [An El Gringo is described on the menu board as Lettuce, Tomato, Salsa, Choice Meet, Beans, Cheese, Guacamole.]

OSHWB: Ok. How many? Three?

Jester: Two.

OSHWB: Ok. [She gathered four small tortillas and tossed them on the grill]

OSHWB: What beans? [She starts scooping refried beans out of the tub.]

Jester: Black beans, please.

OSHWB: Ok. You want black?

Jester: Yes. Thank you.

OSHWB: Veggie Tacos? [She starts tossing lettuce and tomatoes on the tortillas.]

Jester: No, El Gringo. With chicken please.

OSHWB: Ok. [She moves away from the tub of chicken and back towards the refrigerated case.]

OSHWB: You want cilantro?

Jester: No thank you, I don’t care for cilantro.

OSHWB: Ok. Hot salsa?

Jester: Hot is fine, yes.

OSHWB: Ok. Onion? Makes spicy? [She turns her back to me and blocks my view of the tacos.]

Jester: No thank you, the salsa will be fine.

OSHWB: Ok. [She walks my freshly made tacos to the register where another helpful worker bee is waiting.]

OSHWB: Aqui! I mean, here you go!

Jester: Uh. Thanks.

Register Worker Bee: You want drink?

Jester: Yes, a root beer, please.

RWB: Ok. [She materializes a bright orange soda from the under-counter refrigerator and sets it on the counter.]

RWB: Ok. Two veggie tacos with extra cilantro. That is eight and sixty-five.

Jester: Are the two of you sisters?

RWB: Ok. What?

Jester: Nevermind.

The veggie tacos and orange soda were delicious.

Except for the cilantro.