|Courtesy of National Geographic|
A few days ago when one of my customers dropped off his unit, he said, 'dang, I forgot. I was going to bring you a Jimboy's Taco." It's been years since I've had one of their tacos and the memory of one sounded delicious. I said 'you can't tease me like that. When you come back to get your equipment, you have to bring me a taco." So true to his word, he bought tacos for me and my technicians. They (yes I had two) were greasy, cheesy, beefy, crunchy good.
But and you knew there was a but coming. Friday evening, I could feel the knot in my throat, the sly creep of indigestion making its way through my body. Major heartburn that neither tums nor peppermint gum could ease. I even tried the baking soda in water trick...twice. I sat in the dark living room, staring out the window between moments of trying to read. It began to ease around four ish and I headed off to bed. For the next couple days I had a fast food hangover.
I think part of the issue is psychosomatic as through the night I had time to think about the last time I had Jimboy's and spent the evening in the emergency room. Long story short, eight years ago I had gotten a Steak Taco and was in the midst of talking to James, took a bite and swallowed a chunk too quickly and it got stuck. It was a miserable evening and I haven't eaten there since.
Lesson learned. Shall I write them a dear John letter -
"I'm sorry, it isn't you, it's me. You just aren't good for me." She said as she swoons on the couch with the back of her hand against her forehead.
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