Taco No Bueno

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Recently, I was yelled at by a taco.

It happened on my way home from work. My Metrocard wasn’t working properly and countless swipes was not affording me entrance to the subway for my daily commute. Normally, I would just move aside so I wouldn’t hold up the line but I happened to be at a station without an attendant and rather than a turnstile to jump, there was only a revolving door. Nor did I have any cash on me and the sole machine was not accepting credit cards; it was either my Metrocard or nothing. I was determined to make my card work so I could get home and I kept on swiping. A man behind me, dressed as a taco for a restaurant, kept muttering expletives under his breath and tapping his foot (yes, tacos have feet). Luckily it finally worked and I pushed my way through the metal revolving door and headed down the stairs to find my train closing it’s doors. I sighed heavily and turned around to walk toward the bench when up strides Mr. Taco, who proceeded to confront me about how long it took me to get my card to work. You haven’t been shamed until you’ve been publicly chastised by a man dressed as food. His arms gesticulating wildly, he bellowed that I had now caused him to be late getting home (to his take-out box, I assume) and how inconsiderate I was and how I should learn how to use a damn Metrocard. I apologized profusely but the sight of a taco in anger tickled my funny bone and I couldn’t help but snicker. Obviously, this made him all the angrier and the madder he became, the more comical it seemed and the more I laughed. And then other strap-hangers joined in.

“This is FUNNY to you???” he screamed.

“It’s funny to everyone. Dude, you’re dressed as a taco. Wearing a sombrero.”

And then, unable to stop myself, I said it: “What’s your beef?”

A woman to my left literally burst out laughing. Not wanting to get punched by a mascot, I backed up considerably and the poor man, who had clearly had a difficult day on the streets of NYC working as lunch, turned and walked shamefacedly to the end of the platform.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “Lettuce be friends!”

Not finished punning, I quietly commented to the woman that he certainly seemed cheesed off and we laughed some more. In fact, I chuckled all the way home.

Now, I understand his frustration. It sucks when someone causes you to miss your train after a long day at a job you don’t particularly enjoy. But the lesson here is that if you’re dressed as some kind of food stuff or promotional item, you really can’t pull of righteous indignation. If you are going to be confrontational and want to be taken seriously, here is a list of outfits you should avoid wearing:

• A hot dog
• A banana
• Jack, from Jack in the Box
• A submarine sandwich
• A bottle of Snapple
• A hamburger
• A movie ticket or popcorn
• Sushi
• A Slim Jim (snap out of it!)
• Spiderman
• An ice cream cone
• Pizza (no need to be saucy)
• A pirate, especially one with a parrot
• A Hooters uniform
• French fries (a salty attitude will get you nowhere)
• A serving wench
• Sporting equipment
• A newsie

After all, hell hath no funny like fast food with a chip on it’s shoulder.

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Savage Lettuce (6 Posts)

Savage Lettuce (aka: Rebecca Ash) is a gypsy freelance writer whose gender was, for years, the topic of much speculation. After getting groped on the subway, it was determined that she was of the female persuasion and had a "nice rack". She continues to break the barriers of gender specific narrative mostly through the use of completely inappropriate and bizarre humor, twisted subject matter, and wearing a cod piece as a fascinator. When not writing, she enjoys dance, collecting shoes, slug racing and anthropomorphizing her mini dachshunds and pet pig.