fall, rise. rinse, dry.

Pine cone and I are dining out! We’ve been wanting to try Rutland’s almost-famous-already Latin Fiesta since early this morning, but after 2hrs in Value Village we’re both ready to tie on the old Salvadoran feed-bag.

The guy at the counter is nice, at first, but when pine cone clams up, and the line is out the door with hangry folk, he starts to get a little impatient, “Maybe you should order for… it. A child’s Chiquita, perhaps?”

But I’ve been through this reticent pine cone act at the Smoothie Shack already and I know what’s needed, “Pine cone, if you can’t decide, then you’ll get nothing. And I’m not sharing my Rellenos, so forget it.”

Perhaps I should start at the beginning of this fiasco. Earlier, in traffic, pine cone was screaming that we should skip the Village of Value and go straight to Latin Fiesta. It was like something out of Lolita. It went like this:

Woman 2 arrives through apartment door.
Woman 1 stands inside, a monstrous cloth
bag on the floor beside her.

Woman 1: I’m leaving you.
Woman 2: Finally.
Woman1:  I feel like I don’t even know you.
Woman 2: May I remind you of the circum-
stances under which we met?
Woman 1: You surprised me as I was rob-
bing your apartment.
Woman 2: —
Woman 1: We fell in love.
Woman 2: —
Woman 1: You asked me to move in.
Woman 2: And now you think you can just
Woman 1: I must go.
Woman 2: I know you’ve been stealing
from me.
(They both look at the enormous bag)
Woman 1: How did you–?
Woman 2: You think you’re so smart.
Woman 1: I was so careful.
Woman 2: Hiding the stolen articles in
the apartment?
Woman 1: Amidst the things I didn’t steal.
Woman 2: I’m calling the police.
Woman 1: So I must go.
Woman 2: They’re already on their way.
Woman 1: But how?
Woman 2: I’m a cop.
Woman 1: All this time?
Woman 2: You are under arrest.
Woman 1: All this time.
Woman 2: We’ve been watching you.
Woman 1: Why didn’t you stop me?
Woman 2: As you stole more and more,
City Hall took an interest.
Woman 1: —
Woman 2: By the end of the second year,
the case was becoming important.
Woman 1: —
Woman 2: Finally, we closed in.
Woman 1: —
Woman 2: Our success depended on you.
Woman 1: Me?
Woman 2: You. Leaving me.
Woman 1: You were protecting me.
Woman 2: I did what I could. But you went
too far.
Woman 1: Too far.
Woman 2: Eventually I couldn’t stop myself
from stopping you.
Woman 1: Finally.
Woman 2: I’m placing you under house arrest.
Woman 1: And if I try to leave?
Woman 2: More house arrest.
Woman 1: So the only way I can ever truly
Woman 2: Is by staying. Forever.
Woman 1: I have nothing to say.
Woman 2: You have the right to remain silent.

As it was, I ended up not being able to finish the generous rice and beans which accompanied my order of Rellenos, so I set pine cone down in the leftovers and we wound our way through the suburbs. Such fandangoes are danced on the edge of town!


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