Burritos and Cat-Calls

By Matthew Frank, 7-11-06

While sitting outside Taco del Sol eating yet another burrito, listening to their bluegrass selection of the day…

A beefy guy in a fancy, flare-collared button-down with greasy hair, clearly flustered, walked out of del Sol with a wad of brown napkins in his hand. He headed toward his two equally fancy friends who had been waiting for him by the curb.

Beefy Guy: “Dude. This has been going for five minutes. I can’t get it to stop.” He was referring to his nose. It was packed tight with a napkin, I then noticed, like a boxer’s after a fight.

Fancy Friend #1: “We can wait ‘till your ready, man. We ain’t in no hurry.”

Fancy Friend #2: “I wouldn’t mind waiting here all day.” He was looking up the street. They all had an accent, a U.S. accent, though I couldn’t place it.

Fancy Friend #1: “How’d you get the nosebleed?”

Beefy Guy: “I think it was those jalapenos.” It was then that I made eye contact with him, and he quickly looked away in hopes of conveying as little embarrassment as possible. Evidently this fellow hadn’t had Taco del Sol before. Perhaps he asked for both hot sauce and jalapenos, something even I, a lover of spicy foods, don’t request on a regular basis.

Fancy Friend #1: “I bet it’s this hot, dry air. We ain’t used to this.” Then there was a minute or so of silence as Beefy Guy fidgeted with his saturated nose wad. Meanwhile, I was attempting to scoop the black beans and guacamole that had dropped to my tray back atop the last bite of my burrito.

Fancy Friend #2: “Ts ts ts.” I’m not really sure how to spell this. Maybe it’s “tk tk tk.” In any case, the two others heard their buddy’s signal and both looked where he was looking, across the street, and I did too, wondering what this strange sound meant. A woman was there, simply walking. “Tk tk tk.” Apparently they were cat-calling her. It wasn’t loud enough for her to hear.

Fancy Friend #1: “Which one? Oh yeah.”

Fancy Friend #2: “Tk tk tk.” And he laughed. “Yeah, man. I could stay here all day.”

They walked away.

As I stood up to go, two others quickly walked past. “I walk by this place everyday,” one of them said, “and every time they’re playing the same sh*tty music.”
[End of article]