Dear Taco Cart,

Dear Taco Cart,

First of all, I’m crazy about you. You’re always there when I stumble off the train in the middle of the night. Nothing means more to me than that. But lately some things have been happening between us that I feel like I need to address.

Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m being listened to. I’ll place my order, and you might be talking to someone on your giant Motorola phone, and when I get my plate I notice that I got two steaks instead of the carnitas-pollo-asada trifecta that I wanted. I know that you’re busy, and that we don’t really have an “exclusive” thing, but it’s stuff like this that makes me feel like I don’t mean anything to you.

Also I have to mention something about pricing. When I order three tacos at 2.50 apiece, you charge me 8 dollars. I get that you don’t want to deal with quarters, but it just doesn’t make any economic sense that buying in volume would cost me more. You have to understand that as a secular liberal American, consumerism is basically my religion. Our copy of the bible was shelf dressing but my Dad spent his nights studying consumer reports with the kind of reverence that a rabbi gives to the Talmud. One time I think I saw him shake in ecstasy over a comparison table for upright vacuums. So when I tried to compromise with you by asking that a water be thrown in, and you coldly responded that water costs one dollar, it was not only frustrating, but also somewhat offensive to my cultural upbringing.

Also, lately you’ve been giving out lemons with your tacos. It’s a minor thing but it makes me feel like you don’t respect me. I know a lemon is not a lime. It confuses me why you think I’d be okay with that.

 I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, with that other taco cart setting up right beside you and offering an identical menu. You’re worried that everyone who loves and supports you might be taken from you. I just want to let you know that I will never go to that other cart, no matter how short the line is, or how good the food may be. You are my cart, and frankly, it was pretty bitchy of that other cart to do that.

One last thing, and forgive me for saying this, but your meat has been getting a little fatty lately. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but it’s just that I care a lot about health, and I want us all to be healthy, you, me, everyone in the neighborhood really. So maybe just, I don’t know, find a little extra time to butcher your carnitas in a way that will make us all feel better and more confident in ourselves?

Look, that list bit was out of line. I’m sorry. I feel terrible for typing it. It’s just the western cultural perspective telling me that I need to avoid saturated fat. It’s bullshit, I know. It’s much better than that overly-processed stuff the other places are serving. Your food is unique, but also has a classic flavor, and it’s not at all conventional, or artificial. It drives me wild, honestly. I would go back and delete that last paragraph if I wasn’t using a typewriter.

Glad we had this talk. See you later tonight if forget to eat dinner or get drunk.