Ai Chihuahua!

So I sauntered up 3rd Ave towards a taqueria recommended to me by our waiter at a Mexican restaurant. A hankering for chilaquiles prompted this query of Bay Ridge taquerias, coupled with a longing for the autentico comida Mexicana I enjoyed as a Colorado resident.

I found it, appreciated how clean and organized it was, and ordered up some Chilaquiles Pollo Asado to go and watched World Cup Soccer en espanol as I waited, happily inhaling the gorgeous chile and cilantro aroma wafting from the kitchen.

I chatted with the cook about finding good Mexican food in New York or even the right ingredients to make it at home. He promised I'd love the chilaquiles and reminded me they deliver for free. I paid and ran back down 3rd Ave towards our happy home. "What," I wondered, "would be better with my dinner than some cold Corona cerveza?"

I be-bopped into the corner store and grabbed a sixer. To my horror, I had only $3. I paid $20 for my $7 dinner and got back the wrong change. GAAAAAAH! I briefly considered schlepping the 10 blocks back to the taqueria right then and there, but decided that eating first and calling them would be better.

Except they WON'T ANSWER THEIR !%!$#$%!$t%!%t$$ PHONE!!!!

UPDATE: I arrived at the taqueria sweaty from the hike and ready to kick some ass. The senora who took my order earlier looked at me curiously and went to get someone to translate. The cook turned up, heard my story, told me the lady didn't speak english or converted currency well (good idea to have her work the counter!)and proceeded to yell at her in spanish. She tearfully handed me my lousy $10 and apologized profusely.

I AM an asshole! Next time I go--and I will soon: the food is awesome--I will give her a massive tip for nothing. A guilt-assuaging tip. Even though I did nothing wrong. [sigh]

Back to Corona and the "So You Think You Can Dance" elimination show!