Squids In The Light Of Morning
The Velveta that fills my sinuses transmogrified into Cheez Whiz in the shower. Not, mind you that this is an unusual experience, but I really don't like it. Expectoration of this yellowish substance seems to have triggered yet another transmogrificaiton - into a Portuguese Man O' War the size of my foot that fought the current in the shower and stretched ropy yellow tentacles toward my tender toes. Sinus squids! dontcha just hate 'em?
Taco Bell Redux
For comparison review my Taco Hell of last July 26.
Hari dropped me off in the Taco Bell parking lot. I nearly blew away in the high winds. Now that is a strong statement. I am far from light and fluffy. I am, in fact, so amazingly far from fluffy that the mind boggles. Light is right out of the question. Despite this the world's ventose inclinations I thrust out my white cane and trekked across the parking lot. Not one person attempted to run me down. Al ready I was having a good day. Perhaps it is the white cane? I made it to the entrance, managed to open the door against the wind without having to retreat to the leeward side of the building (an accomplishment!). Inside I found no crowd at all. It was 12:15, perhaps too early? Perhaps to late? Certainly I entered in the middle of a lull as the place filled up about 12:30. I went to the counter ordered my standard "Big beef burrito supreme! No tomato, please. And a double decker taco, also with no tomato". Now you may find it odd that I quoted that too you, but it is a phrase that I use at Taco Bell in the same fashion that I would utter an incantation at a Sabbat. Variation from the formulaic invocation can lead to hideous disaster. If I place the same order in any other words I wind up with chalupas (whatever the Bell that is) or a stuft steak grilled green-sauced guacamole clad substance instead of the good ol' Big Beef Burrito Supreme. I don't know why.
Suffice it to say, I ordered. I got my change, asked for my receipt number (they call 'em out for pickup) and toddled over to the end of the line to wait. My order came up. I groped my way through the pile of sporks and condimentia to get what I had to have and headed for the drink bar. Recollection of my past experience strong in my mind I held my tray in one hand, my drink in the other and balance my white cane in novel fashion while filling my cup. Once filled, I placed cup on tray and trekked! I made it across the restaurant without major collision, without my tray being stolen or my lunch being soaked by my drink. I appropriated a booth and set to. OK. It wasn't perfect. I did get approximately as much Burrito on my outside as on my inside. The damned things just disintegrate. But that is per my theory:the quality of any dining experience involving a food that contains tomato sauce can be gauged by a single criterion - if you didn't splash any sauce above your eyebrows you didn't really enjoy yourself. Given the aforementioned, I didn't enjoy my lunch, but it was a near thing. Hari phoned - "on the way". I finished my last bite of double-decker taco, discarded my tray and headed for the parking lot. I got outside (exiting to the leeward and avoiding the worst of the monsoon) and travelled the length of the sidewalk to the north side of the parking lot. I needed to be on the South side to avoid Hari having to do a double u-turn to pick me up so I threw caution to the howling wind and crossed the lot. There were no near-death experiences involved. There, astride the South median, I awaited the inestimable Hari. He arrived in good time and we returned to work with no loss of human life.
All things considered, it could have been worse.