There's No Emoticon For This One . . .

After my father sent his burrito back for the second time (because it wasn't hot enough) and asked for more sour cream, even though we already had two little bowls of it, I looked at the waitress and tried to convey this with my glance: I'm sorry you're going through this hassle and thank you for humoring my dad and even though I seem to be a part of this family, I might be adopted or something, so don't hold it against me . . . and look -- my son is eating tamales with mole sauce! so we know what's good! and I tried to explain to my dad that you can only make a burrito so hot because you've got to wrap all the fillings in a tortilla, but I don't think he heard me and he's really not familiar with Mexican food . . . and all this makes me wonder if I'm going to get like that when I get old, confused and befuddled by the unfamiliar-- because, truth be told-- I'm not adopted, and if that's where I'm headed, then please just laugh at my absurd senior citizen requests and repetitions, instead of spitting in my food . . . muchas gracias and she seemed to understand me, to completely comprehend all the nuances of my glance, which makes me wonder if she has this experience often (which would make sense, considering she works at an authentic Mexican place in a non-Spanish speaking location).

5 comments:

rob said...

oof. squanziele.

zman said...

You wrote a series of sentences about your inability to operate a scarf but you wonder if you're getting confused and befuddled?

Dave said...

i can now operate a scarf . . . my knowledge and skills are increasing in my old age.

rob said...

look at zman subtly bragging about his own recall by bringing up an obscure sentence. i see you, zman. i don't remember who you are, but i see you.

Dave said...

if i get eaten by a great white at lighthouse beach, zman will be the only one who remembers anything from this blog!

A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.