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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.
