Twice this week, I’ve ordered a sandwich at the bagel place up the street, and realized once I got home that they gave me the wrong thing. (They all look the same when they’re wrapped in deli paper.)

Tonight, I stopped at the Mexican place around the corner for some nachos. I asked for “an order of nachos with guacamole, but no sour cream.” I guess it’s a tiny bit tricky, but I’ve had the same thing there a bunch of times. The cashier was a girl I’ve seen before, but tonight she looked at me like I was speaking another language. I repeated myself. She said, “I’m sorry, what did you want again?” and I repeated myself yet again. At that point, she seemed to understand, so I sat down and waited for my nachos.

During the next minute or so, I watched the cook make a burrito with guacamole and put it on the counter. I figured it was for another customer until the cashier pointed at me and said, “Your burrito.” I was too confused to be annoyed, so I said calmly, “No, I ordered nachos.” After I repeated my order a fourth time, they made my nachos.

Either I’ve stumbled onto the beginnings of a food service rebellion, or that girl just started doing lots of drugs, or there’s something very wrong with me. Is it possible I’m so overworked, I only think I’m speaking clearly? I pretty much live on take-out, so if I can’t make a food order, I’ll probably end up wandering the streets of Williamsburg babbling about nachos and bagels until I die of starvation. Good bye, everyone… (just in case.)