Lunch

I'm bored. Nothing fun ever happens around here, EVER. I'm just going to lie here and stare at you until you do something interesting. And no, taking my picture doesn't count as interesting. It just makes me grouchier. Go away.

I had lunch today at the Mexican place with the grouchy counter guy. He's this big Mexican guy with a mustache and a bad attitude. It's like he'd really rather no one came in at all; I mean, sure, I can understand customers being annoying, but he could at least make an effort to be pleasant. He makes you afraid to order. He's the reason I don't go there more often, it's just too uncomfortable.

There's also a woman behind the counter; I don't know if they're a married couple or not, but I would assume so. They're both always there, and I think they're the owners. She's very sweet and kind; you just know she's spent her entire life apologizing for him.

I placed my order and asked for it to go (Heaven help you if you forget to tell him it's "to go"--they charge an additional quarter for to go orders, and he probably assumes that if you don't tell him when you pay, then tell him later, you're trying to get away with something and think you won't have to pay. Well, he makes you pay. He heaves a huge sigh and goes over and rings up 25 cents on the register and scowls.

When the order came up (he came up to the pick-up window and shouted "Willie!" in this huge, scary voice), it was on a paper plate covered with aluminum foil rather than the styrofoam boxes they used to use. I guess the quarter wasn't covering the box charge . . . The woman came up and offered me a plastic grocery sack, but I didn't really want to try to carry a paper plate with hot enchiladas and beans the couple of blocks back to the office, so I told her I'd changed my mind and would sit out on the patio at one of the tables. I guess I should have asked for my quarter back . . . (just kidding).

While I had been waiting for my order, another woman came in and placed a to go order, and she sat down at the table beside me to wait. She made some idle conversation, and then when her order came up, she brought it outside and sat down at the table with me. She said she had intended to take hers with her, too, but decided it would be too messy to eat tacos in the car.

She (I think I heard pretty much her whole life story) had come down to the River Market to get some paper aprons (I think that's what it was) at the restaurant supply place. She used to get them at Paper Warehouse for a dime apiece, but they didn't have them anymore, so she had to buy 100 of them for $10.00 at the supply place. I didn't really understand what she needed them for, I think she said something about a wedding.

Anyway, I learned that she lives near Starlight Theater (Swope Park), and can hear concerts from her back yard; Luther Vandross is coming this summer, and she's looking forward to hearing him without having to buy the ticket. And she told me about a Chinese restaurant that she likes a lot, and a Mexican restaurant that she and her friends visited on their way to a religious convention, and how if you want ethic food, you should get authentic ethnic food, i.e., if you want Chinese food or Mexican food, go to a real Chinese or Mexican place, and if you want fried chicken, "go to the Black people." (She was Black, so I guess it was okay to say that.) It made me smile, and I told her I agreed. I didn't mention the Popeye's Chicken that opened up on College Boulevard in Overland Park about a half mile away from our house.