Still Hazy After All These Years

"When will she EEVVVV-er learn?"

That's a little made-up song my second-best old ex-teaching buddy Karen used to sing about me during our Friday-night faculty poker games. Okay. So there wasn't much competition. Usually just three of us, sometimes a fourth. I was generally the loser. Not devious enough to bluff like my buddies Karen and Jim. Sometimes I could outsmart our fourth, Jerri, but she was, after all, an elementary art teacher.

Yes, I'd fall for the same tricks every time. Even though alcohol was involved, and Karen and Jim most likely had tells that seasoned gamblers could see from space. I, myself, could not.

If Karen could see me now, I'm pretty sure she'd be singing that little song.

When WILL I ever learn? I know that Hardee's is going to mess up my Beef Taco Salad. I know it! Sure as Jack will jump up on me with muddy feet, and Farmer H will lose on scratchers. Yet I STILL have hopes of getting a delicious Beef Taco Salad.

You know dang well that taco salad is not tall enough to have touched the top lid of the box. HOW did my sour cream get up there? And even more mysterious, how did salsa and cheese get on the side of that lid flap? It didn't spill over, or there'd be a glop of it on the side of the shell.

Let the record show that when I pulled up to the Hardee's drive-thru speaker, there were no cars in front of me. It was Labor Day. Not a big day for picking up taco salads from Hardee's, I would imagine. I was treating myself to lunch, after a morning of making potato salad.

I ordered and pulled around. Paid. Got change. The dude said, "We'll have it right out." And within 30 seconds, there it was! That's incredible! It's like they were a seasoned NASCAR pit crew, changing my tires. I guess they might have started making it when they heard me through the speaker. Looks to me like several workers stood across the room and flung their respective ingredients at the box! There's even a pile of cheese in the corner.

As for the sour cream, perhaps the makers drew straws, and the winner got to toss the whole box to the drive-thru window guy. Maybe he was holding the bag open, and they played bag-ket box. Heh, heh! Get it? Like basketball, only a bag instead of a basket, and a box instead of a ball! I crack myself up sometimes.

Anyhoo... my Hardee's Beef Taco Salad wasn't really much of a treat, except for the fact that I didn't have to prepare lunch, but only take it out of the bag and box. As you gaze longingly at it, don't hurt your eyes. Don't hurt them looking for the BEEF! Remember Clara Peller, the tiny old lady on those Wendy's commercials, saying "Where's the beef?" I think it's probably somewhere in the vicinity of my own taco salad beef.

I'd like to say that I've learned my lesson. But like with my poker-playing Friday nights, I get so wrapped up with the anticipation (of a tasty taco salad, rather than of winning a hand of poker, and thus the pile of pretzel sticks which was our currency) that my mind grows hazy, and I forget the previous poor outcomes.