Dialogue

The three of us were leaving the bowling alley, one of our favorite weekend haunts, and it was just about midnight. David, Greg and I had just parted from our friend Danny. We had known Danny from when we were all boys, so fresh faced and young. In the last year though Danny was aging faster than the rest of us. His months in Seattle could be measured by the shadowy circles beneath his eyes. He was wasn’t the same gangly eighth grader who had caught a baseball in his cap in the outfield. We had all changed but he changed faster.
Now, Our time with Danny done, we piled into a car and headed uphill, just as the three of us.
“every time I see him I get depressed” I chimed in.
“yeah, me too. But it is good to see him you know?” Greg could barely convince himself of this.
After his comment we all fell silent for a bit, slowly driving towards our homes and trying not to think too hard about our wayward friend.
“ hey lets get something to eat” Dave prompted. Nothing could make you feel better than a full belly. But as it occurred to him he followed his own thought: what restaurant could be open at this time?
In no time at all I knew:
“T.C.”
“Fuck that, No. I am not going to fucking Taco Cabana” Greg was not in the mood for Taco Cabana; not in the mood for the gangs or the drag racers or the police or the heavy smell of tortillas and grease that always filled the place.
“c’mon man you can get a carne burrito for like 99 cents” I was beginning to beg.
“No way”
“fine. Then what else is open?”
“taco bell” this was a slap in the face. An insult to Mexican cuisine everywhere. I would not stand for this affront.
“ No. man if we are going to get Mexican we are going to get real Mexican.”
“Please Greg” David, breaking his silence was finally on my side.
“ It hurts my stomach”
“stop being such a girl”
I wondered why this seemed to happen every time we wanted to go eat. It was a battle over nothing. The only thing won was a momentary reprieve from the other problems in the car. The battle over T.C. was no more than a distraction. But the battle did have a winner. That winner was me. In thirty minutes I would be so full I could barely walk and my lips would be burning from the spice. This burn would go on for another thirty minutes after the meal and would be welcome as yet another thing to think about.