So we went to Carlito's for lunch to celebrate Lindsey's birthday. A large table of 10 people who don't know each other very well, except for the three of us at the end, me, Deb and Mary Ann. The waitress comes to take our order. Everyone else is indecisive, so I volunteer to start. I'll have a number 11, please. And how do you want those tacos, ma'am?
HARD. BEEF. I yell out because I'm at the very end of the table in the corner. Then I look up at Deb, our faces crinkle up, and we both start rolling. Then Mary Ann starts snickering, but she's much better at maintaining a front. And the three of us were like that for the rest of the lunch, bordering on hysterical. Unfortunately, no one else at the table appreciated our Beavis humor.
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