Today when we were finishing lunch the waiter was like, “How was your day?” and I said, “Good, thanks! A little exhausting, but good. How was yours?” and then he and Victor just stared at me in silence and finally Victor whispered, “He asked how your tamale was” and now I can never go back there.
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I sign books for free if you order them at Nowhere but I often like to do a little extra and it almost always ends in apologies.
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I just read a thing about how not everyone eats green bean casserole and I’m floored. Have you never had it? The green beans and the mushroom soup and the fried onions on top? How about broccoli cheese and rice casserole? (It is my favorite and I will hear no slander on it.) This is like hearing that people have never tried macaroni. Inconceivable.
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I have stories from when I left the country last week but I’m still recovering from traveling (thanks chronic illness!) and tomorrow I’m going to be too high to write because I have a ketamine treatment for my depression. But more to come, I promise.
Have a great tamale.