My niece took me to a hot spot for some delicioso tacos last week. They were so tasty that I cordially invited myself back to their lobby yesterday.
But, after the young Mexican descent cashier said, “Ok, the toto is Dthirthy djuu Dolla.” I yelled back: “Thirty two dollars for what?”
“For dyour order.” He answered with a forceful smile.
“But, we only ordered six tacos and some drinks?”
“Yes. I know.” But it’s still Dthirthy djuu DOLLA!”
Although I highly admired his boldness, I was still outraged by the high cost. I’m talking about a fast food place, and, our order consisted of six dry corn tortilla layered with the smell of beef; sprinkled with diced onion and cilantro. But the spicy sauce does cry out: “Please keep eating ME and pay another $32.00 for six tacos.” But, regardless; in my opinion, I still felt it was a threat for bankruptcy.
Besides, since I wasn’t the one paying, I had to create some humor. That’s the least I could have done, don’t you think?
I did give my niece my heartfelt condolences for the death of her wallet, and promised to contribute for the funeral process.
Plus, I could tell the young cashier and I had a special connection. Yes, although his face was competing with the sunlight, while drops of sweats fell off like wax from a lit candle. However, humor was dripping off his hair, like black jell on weaves.
To prove my point, when he said “Dyou ordered Beef tacos which are more expensive than…”
I answered, “This cow better have been a saint with Jesus blood running through its veins.”
With enthusiasm he said: “Dsure was; it was shipped all the way from India!”
“Yes!” I thought. My kind of cashier!
What do you think?
This story is Friction or Non-Friction?
Or, could it be a blend of both?