Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Fiesto Burrita!

I was sitting in bed last night, hair dripping on to the pages of my flowered journal, me waxing poetically and conjuring prose with the flick of my dainty (ahem!) wrist, when the phone rings.

"Hello?"  I answer politely.

"Come get me.  Get out of bed.  I'm hungry."  Summer demanded of me. 

"I'm in bed! My hair's wet!"

"Yeah.  Don't care. Hungry.  Come get me."  She repeated.

"Fine.  Be there in a bit. Listen for me to honk - my hair's WET so I don't wanna get out in the cold."

"Hungry."  She said in a way of agreement.

Of course, I have to go in and get her. My niece is still up and adorable in her Elmo footie pajamas. "Harry?  Where Harry?"  she asks me, eyes big like a doe's.  Thanks, twerp, it's nice to see you, too!  :)

I get Summer and toss her into the side of my Escape and we make our way to the Border.  Taco Bell. 

"Ask 'em what's in the Fiesta Burrito," she pokes me with one of her skinny needle fingers.

"Um - Hi - What is in your Fiest-O Burrit-ah?"  I ask and then burst out laughing when I realize what I've said.

"Excuse me?" said the man in the speaker. "Didn't get that."

"Um, okay," (snigger, snigger, snort) "What are the innerds of the Fiest- the Fiest -"  tears stream from behind my glasses as I laugh so hard that I begin to bark like a seal.

I look at Summer - "YOU - you - you made me - HORNK!" 

"What the hell is a 'HORNK'?"  She asks me in between bursts of silent laughter.

"The Feista Burrito has..."  An exasperated woman gets on the intercom and tells us what lies in the mystery of this Taco Bell creation.

"Yeah, we don't want that."  I say to her and wipe my eyes. We place an order - the same thing we get every time and pull to the window.

A very large man takes our money, "Ya'all having a good night tonight?"  he asked.

"Yeah, she just drove in and I was in bed and -"  he cut me off by shutting the window and taking the order of the car behind us.

This only made Summer and me laugh harder.  We arrived home ten minutes later, red-faced and hoarse.

Good times, fresh material. 

I sure am glad she's home!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I got kicked out of a Taco Bell drive-thru once.  The short version:

There was a huge line of cars in front of me, and I put in my order, and the guy told me to pull forward --which I couldn't do.  A short time later, he came back and tried to take my order again thinking I was someone new.  None of the cars had moved, and I explained that I was still me and he'd already taken my order.  

A short time after that, I heard his crackling little voice, "Thank you for choosing Taco Bell, how can I help you?"  

I got a little angry and told him that it was STILL me and that they should probably start doing something about the poor people trapped in the four cars in front of me rather than worry about me.  "People are dying man!  Save them!"  

Then, he said "Sir?  I'm going to have to ask you to leave.  You're loitering in our drive thru."  

"Fine," I said.  

Now, remember?  Cars in front of me, and tons of cars behind me?  I was trapped.  And, wouldn't you know it, as I'm sitting there waiting for someone to move so I could get out, he gets back on the intercom and says "Welcome to Taco Bell, how may I help you?"  



Anonymous said...

The only time I have ever been to a Taco Bell was when I was 20 years old and living in Texas. (A full quarter century ago. Eeek, that was sort of depressing.) So, whenever I get up the energy to drive into town for that cherry/lime orgasm, I must also hunt down a Bell.