Magical Tacos - A Morning Mini-post

My alarm sounded this morning and I flipped the snooze. I laid there for 6 more minutes before deciding I might as well get up and pee. I get kids up, I let dogs out, and I start getting dressed.

 

Then the strangest thing happened... no one was gritching. Silence and manners could be heard instead of grumbling. I should buy a lotto ticket.

 

I managed to get ready for work, get all of our lunches together, and drop kids at school BEFORE 7:15 am. Then I started driving across town. The day after the big taco let-down, and on the heels of the most uneventful morning ever, I slowly turned at the light on the north side of town. ( I don't really have to be overly detailed here, there is only ONE light on the north side of town. )  I didn't want to get my hopes up too much. I gathered my thoughts, and as I approached... I took a deep breath, and slowed down, and that's when I saw it....

 

The sweet, sweet lights of Ortega's Taco truck. The magical mythical beast of the land. There it was, in all its glory, lights shining brightly in the early morning drizzle. (Don't judge the picture. You don't come here to this blog for photography!)  I ordered my usual, and because the smell of fresh sizzling piggy oinky bacon filled the air around me, I asked for a slice, to top off my majestic taco.  When the artistry was finished, I approached, and was handed my brown lunch bag filled with my taco, some napkins, and 2 red sauce... and that's when he said it... he cemented my belief in the mighty taco... he said... "She's a beauty!"

 

Indeed. She was.

Dear Old Navy...

Oh nemesis. Keeper of the LONG checkout line. Master of the coupon. We visited you Sunday and your aisles released to us some rockstar jeggings, great for school, karate, and dance. And as a mother this makes me happy because when my kid has all 3 in one day, it means less washing. It means less time spent picking up random dirty clothing within 3" of the hamper in the bathroom. You know. Because it is impossible to get your dirties IN the hamper after living for a whole day...

But I digress...

So I bought a pair. They are perfect. Madame Secretary (the 10 yr old) says to buy MORE. So I go online...to what is obviously the 4th circle of Dante's hell...to purchase 3 more of the exact same pair. Because nothing says "I have sensory issues" more than 4 pairs of the same pants you alternate for 2 weeks.

I am the Queen of the coupon, so I manage to buy 2 pair and basically get the 3rd free. Causing me to go into my best "tightwad" dance I can muster after a LONG ass day.... a day that started with my main man... Ruben the Magical Taco Truck KING...not being open. (Cue sad music) (cue Mexican sad music) (Wait...IS there any Mexican sad music? All the Tejano and Cumbia music I rock out to is happy, and says.. I won the lottery and nothing else matters!)

But... no... your site has bigger plans for me. Your website declines BOTH of our Old Navy cards because "there is a security issue". Even though there's a zero balance. Did Hannibal Lector pay it off and you flagged him when he bought Brandy?

How you toy with emotions.

I can only assume you did this on purpose, so you could have us IN store next Sunday, making your lowest paid cashier deal with the problem on the weekend before Valentine's Day.

I am going to go assume, that with our luck, we will get the cashier that doesn't want to be there, or deal with the weirdness that we are about to inflict. And we will end up on the phone with Jake from State Farm's sister (see yesterday's post) so she can look up the account and charge the purchase.

I just want 3 more pairs of Rockstar jeggings JUST like the ONLY pair you had at the Barton Creek Mall in Madame Secretary's size.

Sunday we will enter the 5th circle...JUST to get to the physical store ... so we can encounter the, like, 99th circle.

Kudos to you, Old Navy. And here's a pointer... no one wants pineapple print in February.

Spammers & Hookers & Blow... OH MY

So this weekend, for our 15th Anniversary, we took a little trip to the Lake. Wow! 15 years you say!!! Yes, and we are both still breathing, though sometimes, through a pillow, at night, until one of us struggles and we have to stop because apparently there's a line you aren't supposed to cross.

 

It is Saturday around 2pm...my phone rings... y'all... this is good. It was one of the local spoofed numbers. Of course I had won a trip to the Bahamas. So I keep telling Jessica the super friendly sorority girl robot YES, so I can get a real person, because let's face it... messing with these people brings me some joy... Anyhoo... I am connected with the younger brother of Jake, from State Farm. I can tell by the All-American voice that Jake's little brother plays disc golf with his friends on the weekends, and dates a girl named Ashley that has blonde hair. So Jake's little brother asks me if I am excited about my free trip to the Bahamas... which is when I ask.....

 

 

Does that include hookers and blow?

 

 

 

Now, Jake from State Farm's little brother is silent. He takes a deep breath, and with the confidence of a 3rd year business major at a Community College, he replies....

 

 

 

 

No, but I can exchange that Bahamas trip for a free trip to Vegas, they have hookers and blow.

 

 

 

 



Touche, little brother of Jake from State Farm. Touche. I hope when you got done with your thankless job Saturday, that you walked in to the pub with your brother Jake from State Farm, your girlfriend blonde Ashley, and all of your chino short guy friends, and ordered a round and had a good laugh about it. DILLY DILLY to you, good Sir!