Boss: Can you pick up some tacos from the truck down the street?
Boss: Oh, and some tortilla soup. No dairy. (He’s vegan.)
Me: Of course.
Boss: And if they don’t have the soup then some more tacos. But they better have soup or you’re fired.
(Enter long and joking* discussion about the repercussions and legal actions that would be taken if I got fired.)
*I hope, ha!
Me: Please don’t fire me.
(I go to the taco truck and order food.)
Me: (Waiting for food)
(Super Fat Drunk Guy walks over.)
Drunk Guy: (Slurring to the point of intelligibility) How much for ketchup chips?
Taco Truck Guy: Two dollars.
Drunk Guy: I’m a shaman but I don’t like to do it in the street. (Sways precariously)
Taco Truck Guy: Oh.
Drunk Guy: I’m waiting for a bus. (Note: there’s no bus stop anywhere near the taco truck)
Taco Truck Guy: (To me) Here’s your food.
Me: Yay! (I take it back to the shop)
Me: OMG you guys, you shoulda seen the super drunk guy at the taco truck. (does awesome impression of drunk guy, then opens the lid to make sure the soup is right before I hand it to the boss. It is but HAS CHEESE ON IT! DISASTER! VEGAN BOSS!)
Me: Crap. There’s cheese on it! I’ll be right back.
(I walk back to the taco truck)
(Drunk guy is still there.)
Drunk guy: YOU’RE MEXICANS.
Taco truck guy: …Yeah?
Me: Um, sorry, I need this soup to not have cheese on it, my boss is vegan. No dairy.
Taco Truck Guy: Oh, sorry! No cheese! Yes. (Takes it back)
Me: Yes! Thanks. (Waits patiently)
Drunk guy: (Stumbles) Fucking chips. I had a hamburger.
Taco Truck Guy: …yes. Chips. Do you want a taco?
Drunk guy: How much are they, ten dollars?
Taco Truck Guy: Six for six dollars.
Drunk Guy: I had a hamburger. You’re an asshole. Shaman. It’s dark then light and it changes my mood.
Taco Truck Guy: (To me) Here’s your soup. No cheese! Sorry again!
Me: Thank you so much!
Drunk guy: GRACIAS AMIGOS. FUCK YOU MEX-IGOS. GRACIAS. MEXICO.
(I walk back to the shop with the new soup)
Me: Okay. No cheese!
(I open the soup to check that everything’s okay this time…but there’s a big fat dollop of sour cream in it.)
Me: Nooooo! There’s sour cream on it!
Me: (sigh) I’ll be back again.
(I go back to the taco truck, giddy with the silliness of the situation)
Me: Hey, my soup has sour cream in it.
Taco Truck Guy: Oh no! So sorry!
Me: No, it’s okay. I just need straight up soup with tortillas on top.
Taco Truck Guy: Yes. Sorry! No problem.
(I wait patiently)
(Taco Truck Guy hands me two bowls of soup with no lids on them)
Taco Truck Guy: You take two, sorry again!
Me: Thank you?
I walk back to the shop again, this time definitely sure about the dairy status of the soup because of the lack of lids I could see that there was nothing but soup and tortilla chip thingys in there.
I get to the shop and remember the door is a ‘pull’ type door. And my hands are full of two hot and red-colored soup. That spells disaster right? What would you do?
I, like a total idiot, forged ahead anyway and tried to just pull the door open with one of my soup-holding hands. Of course the door opened faster than I expected and the soup spilled all over me. Like half a damn bowl of tortilla soup.
No, seriously, all over me. It splashed down the front of my hoodie. It got on my (very light colored) skirt. It even somehow got on the inside of my sleeve, and on my back.
…and that’s when I lost my mind.