Legendary Food Roulette, burrito style.

Or, how I learned to stop fighting and love misunderstanding.

L.F.R., B.S.

Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to read is true, only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Upon entering the drive-thru of a well-known fast food establishment, I approach the speaker box with hungry naiveté. After giving me the appropriate and reasonable half second to peruse the symbology-laden menu the box crackles to life.

SpeakerBox (SB): Hi, would you like to try one of our Legendary Burritos?

The voice on the other end was beyond grandmotherly gentility in its tone, and softer than a bunny-shaped cloud in its delivery.

Me: No, thank —

SB: (A tad less gentle, yet still warm and sweet and slightly off sounding like sugar-rimmed sun tea margarita) Our Legendary Burritos, would you like one?

Me: No. I would like —

SB: (Back to syrupy tenderness) Welcome to House of the Taco, would you like to try one of our Legendary Burritos?

Me: (with a good-natured attempt at light-hearted confusion) Um, no? I don’t think so, thank you, I just want —

SB: What kind of sauce would you like on that?

Me: But, but…I haven’t ordered anything yet.

SB: (Confidently continuing) We have Red sauce or Green sauce, those are the options.

Me: (Confidently confused) What are we putting this sauce on?

SB: Perfect, and two crinkle-cut cinnamon sticks for a dollar?

Me: (Pleading for understanding) Please, I just want…
(Upon sudden realization of the futility I give in to the embracing chaos of the process. After all, I’ve decided to continue being alive today and I would rather not fill this life I’m attempting to have be filled with frustrated banter regarding my selection of rapidly made and frightfully consumed entrées)
. . .eh, whatever sure, why not.

SB: Side of hash browns?

Me: (With my supposed Legendary Burrito? The burrito acolytes would surely mock me) Can I get fries?

SB: Small or large?

Now, is that small or large fries…or hash browns? One can never be too sure, better opt out of confrontation and find a middle ground.

Me: Medium?

SB: And will we be drinking anything today?

Me: Oh I’m sure I will be.

SB: Sprite, excellent. Any sides?

Me: Oh, but of course!

SB: (Sounding infinitely pleased with the up-selling) Thank you for choosing House of the Taco today! Your total will be two dollars and nine cents at the second window.

And the roulette wheel was spun! Admittedly, after I released my fruitless efforts of making sense of the senseless the process had become much more enjoyable, a game even. Making room in my day for a little randomocity seemed an intriguing prospect, and at $2.09 a small price to boot! I had thought that with all I seemed to be purchasing the total would be much higher, and so my vexation remained at the level of pleasant amusement. All aquiver with anticipation I pull up to the first and only window to see what my two dollars and nine one-hundredths of a dollar would buy me…

Three minutes and 42 seconds later a completely unassuming and dead-eyed youth presented me with a gloriously underwhelming taco and a coagulated iced coffee.

Obviously not from the illustrious House of the Taco

I was not even the slightest bit sad.