It’s 10:45 on a steamy, Kansas City Saturday night. We’re driving back from a get-together with friends. We just left behind a mountain of food. We’re half way home.
Laura: I’m hungry.
Me: What are you hungry for?
Laura: Taco Bell.
Me: Ah yes. Fourth meal. But why didn’t you eat more at the party?
Laura: I wasn’t hungry then. Or for that food.
Me: What do you want at Taco Bell?
Laura: (no hesitation) Nachos Bell Grande. No meat.
I pull into the next Taco Bell that we come upon. I roll down my window to order. A blast of summer heat hits me in the face. The speaker chirps.
Taco Bell: Welcome to Taco Bell, may I take your order?
Me: Yes. I’ll have one Nachos Bell Grande. Please hold the meat. That is all.
Taco Bell: Ok. I’ve got one Nachos Bell Grande. No refried beans. That’ll be…
Laura: (from the passenger seat) That’s not right!
Me: She’d like beans. Hold the meat please.
Taco Bell: Oh, ok. I’ve got one Nachos Bell Grande. No meat. That’ll be $3.27.
We pull up to the window.
Laura: Oh, Taco Bell. In what universe does “please hold the meat” sound like “no refried beans?” It just doesn’t make sense.
Me: But having a plate of nachos at 10:45 p.m. on the way home from a party with plenty of food does make sense?
Laura: Yes. And just for that, I’m not sharing with you.