By which I actually mean the consumption of anything vaguely Tex-Mex with people I love.
For example, if I look at you and say, "Tacos?" what I really mean is, "I like you. I am experiencing one of the 7 levels of hunger*. I would like to spend time with you while consuming Tex-Mex type food which may or may not actually include tacos." I might instead exclaim "Tacos!" out of the blue. This is a battle cry meaning "I've had just about as much of this as I can take. Let us flee from these shenanigans to a magical land of avocados and pico de gallo where we shall banish the troubles of this place with copious quantities of cheese and corn." It's not universal in usage, but you get the point.
I not only love the fact that it takes a lot of the guesswork out of dining out with friends. Can't decide where to go? No problem! Just head for tacos. Obviously here in Texas that does create almost as many choices as it eliminates, but then you can decide based on proximity and quality.
"Tacos" can effectively encompass all the 5 love languages that Gary guy lists in one evening.
Quality Time--spend time eating tacos with me
Words of Affirmation--talk about life with me and reassure me that I'm not screwing everything up beyond recognition.
Acts of Service--make me tacos, or enchiladas, or empenadas, or tortilla soup, or nachos
Receiving Gifts--pick up the tab
Physical Touch--sit near me, hold my hand, but not the hand I need to eat tacos with
In the past two days, I've had tacos twice, though I ate enchiladas both times. It's not really about the food, though I do love tex-mex. I'm forever grateful to my friend Dan for teaching me the rule of tacos. No more endless dickering about where to go. Good times were only a phone call away. Whenever my bean-to-blood ratio was low, I could call him up, and we'd drive to that taco place off the highway, a chain restaurant like thousands of others across the country, but that one was ours. We chatted about life and growing up and moving across the country and love and fears and World of Warcraft and becoming rock stars. We'd play ninja games for the check and somewhere the rule developed that if you were able to pick up the tab 3 times in a row, the other person had to buy you jewelery... it's an awesome game! Now we go to a different taco joint, just a little farther north, and we bring our spouses and friends and we talk about different stuff, but it's still therapeutic.
If you happen to be one of the strange folk whom I don't understand in that they cannot, will not, or just plain don't enjoy tacos or other Mexican-ish food... well, find your own version of tacos. Maybe it's schnitzel, or spaghetti, or sushi...or fried chicken! Whatever it is, enjoy the beauty of taco therapy, whatever you call it.
*a post for another time
For example, if I look at you and say, "Tacos?" what I really mean is, "I like you. I am experiencing one of the 7 levels of hunger*. I would like to spend time with you while consuming Tex-Mex type food which may or may not actually include tacos." I might instead exclaim "Tacos!" out of the blue. This is a battle cry meaning "I've had just about as much of this as I can take. Let us flee from these shenanigans to a magical land of avocados and pico de gallo where we shall banish the troubles of this place with copious quantities of cheese and corn." It's not universal in usage, but you get the point.
I not only love the fact that it takes a lot of the guesswork out of dining out with friends. Can't decide where to go? No problem! Just head for tacos. Obviously here in Texas that does create almost as many choices as it eliminates, but then you can decide based on proximity and quality.
"Tacos" can effectively encompass all the 5 love languages that Gary guy lists in one evening.
Quality Time--spend time eating tacos with me
Words of Affirmation--talk about life with me and reassure me that I'm not screwing everything up beyond recognition.
Acts of Service--make me tacos, or enchiladas, or empenadas, or tortilla soup, or nachos
Receiving Gifts--pick up the tab
Physical Touch--sit near me, hold my hand, but not the hand I need to eat tacos with
In the past two days, I've had tacos twice, though I ate enchiladas both times. It's not really about the food, though I do love tex-mex. I'm forever grateful to my friend Dan for teaching me the rule of tacos. No more endless dickering about where to go. Good times were only a phone call away. Whenever my bean-to-blood ratio was low, I could call him up, and we'd drive to that taco place off the highway, a chain restaurant like thousands of others across the country, but that one was ours. We chatted about life and growing up and moving across the country and love and fears and World of Warcraft and becoming rock stars. We'd play ninja games for the check and somewhere the rule developed that if you were able to pick up the tab 3 times in a row, the other person had to buy you jewelery... it's an awesome game! Now we go to a different taco joint, just a little farther north, and we bring our spouses and friends and we talk about different stuff, but it's still therapeutic.
If you happen to be one of the strange folk whom I don't understand in that they cannot, will not, or just plain don't enjoy tacos or other Mexican-ish food... well, find your own version of tacos. Maybe it's schnitzel, or spaghetti, or sushi...or fried chicken! Whatever it is, enjoy the beauty of taco therapy, whatever you call it.
*a post for another time
3 comments:
Taco you too!!!!
I remember, early in our dating relationship, you explaining to me that, when in response to "What sounds good for dinner?", "Cheeseburger" means McDonalds. For there is an undying love for the burger among the Bean.
Then along came Tin Star and Cheeseburger Tacos. Mmmm. Cheeseburgers masquerading deliciously as tacos.
Hey, baby - wanna go out for dinner sometime this week?
@JWelch
Not just any McDonald's cheeseburger though. It has to be the ORIGINAL cheeseburger, not a quarter pounder or a Big Mac or anything fancy. The plain Happy Meal cheeseburger... with the tiny diced onions and the warm pickles... it's bizzare, but true. Strange cravings aren't to be questioned.
Post a Comment