Ricardo

On the way home from our camping trip two days ago, I got fixated on finding a Taco Truck in one of the towns we passed. Taco trucks are not all equal but I’ve never met one I didn’t like and I was dying for that kind of food. Yelp informed me there was one on a street called Riverside in Mount Vernon but alas, it was nowhere to be found. I was disappointed but my husband pointed out that one of the guiding principles of taco trucks is their mobility. So the search continued. We headed next to Burlington, Washington and voila…………..along a busy street, there was a brightly colored van called Antojos Locos — or at this point, the answer to my prayers. (The name in English, appropriately enough, Crazy Cravings.) The woman working at the window was very friendly and gracious when I walked up, holding our small dog. Under the assumption the hot gravel parking lot might be painful for Luna’s little feet, yes, I was carrying her. We stood at the window, the three of us — my husband, standing to my left and studying the posted menu, Luna and I next to him. The woman leaned out the window and asked, ‘What’s his name?” “Richard,” I replied, and then added “Ricardo”, trying to impress her by turning my blonde, Scandinavian, Viking-looking husband into a Latino. She smiled and then started talking to “Ricardo” in a little baby voice — at which point, I realized she had asked the DOG’S name and not that of my husband. We cleared things up, much to her embarrassment, and enjoyed her delicious food. No need for her to be embarrassed, as my husband was so busy trying to interpret the menu and decide what he wanted to have for lunch, he was pretty much oblivious to the whole interchange.

Photo courtesy RobynsWorld at Pixabay.com