True Story©… Taco Tuesday
(Don't ask me why the editor change the color of my soles, smh)
We moved into this house on October 20, 2021.
July 3, 2022, I made an active decision to buckle the rest of the way down in my weight loss and health journey and set aside alcohol. Given the nature of and reasoning behind that decision, most of my meals are home-cooked and almost always by me because I work from home in my full-time. Sometimes, though, I find myself, either through my schedule or just a simple need to break the monotony, needing to venture out for sustenance other than what is in my fridge.
A weird thing about this side of town since I moved over here is that two chicken spots, a sandwich shop, a Hardee's and a Chinese takeout joint have all closed. This greatly limits what I can acquire on a standard 30 minute lunch break. Well, it WOULD limit it if not for the FOUR taco trucks I could walk to from my house. Each one stakes the exact same semi-permanent spot every single day seven days a week and I have tried all of them at least once, plus the other three that need to be driven to being just about a mile out. I have a favorite; the one closest to my house with the good elote. It is at the end of a parking lot next to a laundromat, right behind a Ducati/BMW motorcycle dealership so the sights and sounds are all pleasant.
So my favorite taco truck… They have a taco Tuesday special where a regular-ass taco is only $1.75, so three of em with my elote is like ten bucks with tax… I go to lunch at 12:30 and this one positions themselves literally at the edge of my neighborhood, about 4 blocks from my house. I pull around and I'm waiting in line behind like five construction workers by 12:33. I get to the front of the line and--… not to let y'all know more than you need to know about me, but while I am not fluent in Spanish, I can speak enough of it to get myself to a bathroom in Mexico or order three tacos and elote at a taco truck on a Tuesday. Keep that in mind, it will matter soon.
So I order my food and step aside for the woman behind me to order. I'm standing waiting for the nice lady to motion that my food is ready. One of the construction workers makes smalltalk with me, in Spanish because he heard me just speaking to order. I'm dead in the middle of explaining to him that my Spanish is VERY rudimentary when--…
"FREEZE, FEDERAL AGENTS. EVERYBODY ON THE FUCKING GROUND!!!"
[Phlip note: this is that kinda shit that can ONLY happen to me]
So my favorite taco truck… They have a taco Tuesday special where a regular-ass taco is only $1.75, so three of em with my elote is like ten bucks with tax… I go to lunch at 12:30 and this one positions themselves literally at the edge of my neighborhood, about 4 blocks from my house. I pull around and I'm waiting in line behind like five construction workers by 12:33. I get to the front of the line and--… not to let y'all know more than you need to know about me, but while I am not fluent in Spanish, I can speak enough of it to get myself to a bathroom in Mexico or order three tacos and elote at a taco truck on a Tuesday. Keep that in mind, it will matter soon.
So I order my food and step aside for the woman behind me to order. I'm standing waiting for the nice lady to motion that my food is ready. One of the construction workers makes smalltalk with me, in Spanish because he heard me just speaking to order. I'm dead in the middle of explaining to him that my Spanish is VERY rudimentary when--…
"FREEZE, FEDERAL AGENTS. EVERYBODY ON THE FUCKING GROUND!!!"
[Phlip note: this is that kinda shit that can ONLY happen to me]
… what the actual entire motherfucking fucking fuck…
Reflexively, I hit my knees because I knew that while I was born in a hospital about 3.6 miles from this taco truck, I've seen the videos online and I ain't trying to get executed in these streets by agents trained to play GTA in real life.
ICE agents swarm in out of two vans and start rounding people up and stuffing them into said vans. One of them looks at me before looking back to the guy who was apparently in charge and asks "what about this one?" to which his superior responds "I heard him speaking that shit too, snap him up!" and before I could respond I was cuffed and being moved!
Naturally, I was so worried about the food I had just paid for and now would not be receiving that I'd almost forgotten I was about to get swept away to a blacksite and have my life ruined. I saw the clock on the lightboard on the side of the truck, 12:47pm, and my brain snapped back to reality… fuck, I gotta get back to work! "Bro, I'm a citizen with a driver's license in my pocket and my passport in that Subaru right there." This happened against the backdrop of two women, so intrigued by the noise that they were both standing outside the laundromat across the parking lot recording on their phones. Bossman looks over and sees them, clocks that this WAS being caught on camera and is probably being live streamed on InstaSnap, TikBook or FaceTok or something and decides all of a sudden to get decent...
He nods to his subordinate, who jogs over to my backseat, fishes out mine and my wife's passports, thumbs through them both before tossing hers back in the bag and walking over to us with mine. They compared the passport to my license, questioned how much larger I was in both pictures and unhooked me.
They unhooked me, but they ain't fuckin apologize, bastards…
And with that, I got my passport back and got my black ass back in my station wagon and drove the hell back home.
And to think… our passports were ONLY in that bag and still in the car because we had gone to DC a few weeks ago and figured we may encounter an ICE protest while there, and if we had we would want to participate and absolute proof of citizenship would be a good idea. I had simply neglected to remove the bag from the car when we got home.
I mean, I have brought the bag inside now but I thank God I dragged my ass on that.
Reflexively, I hit my knees because I knew that while I was born in a hospital about 3.6 miles from this taco truck, I've seen the videos online and I ain't trying to get executed in these streets by agents trained to play GTA in real life.
ICE agents swarm in out of two vans and start rounding people up and stuffing them into said vans. One of them looks at me before looking back to the guy who was apparently in charge and asks "what about this one?" to which his superior responds "I heard him speaking that shit too, snap him up!" and before I could respond I was cuffed and being moved!
Naturally, I was so worried about the food I had just paid for and now would not be receiving that I'd almost forgotten I was about to get swept away to a blacksite and have my life ruined. I saw the clock on the lightboard on the side of the truck, 12:47pm, and my brain snapped back to reality… fuck, I gotta get back to work! "Bro, I'm a citizen with a driver's license in my pocket and my passport in that Subaru right there." This happened against the backdrop of two women, so intrigued by the noise that they were both standing outside the laundromat across the parking lot recording on their phones. Bossman looks over and sees them, clocks that this WAS being caught on camera and is probably being live streamed on InstaSnap, TikBook or FaceTok or something and decides all of a sudden to get decent...
Him: "No bullshit? You ain't some Dominican trying to get over on us!?"
Me: "gray Oakley backpack, back pocket… it's on the backseat, go look yourself!"
He nods to his subordinate, who jogs over to my backseat, fishes out mine and my wife's passports, thumbs through them both before tossing hers back in the bag and walking over to us with mine. They compared the passport to my license, questioned how much larger I was in both pictures and unhooked me.
They unhooked me, but they ain't fuckin apologize, bastards…
Me: "What about my lunch!?"
Boss: "Oh, you're free to go get something else but--…"
Me: "… but I already PAID for this!"
Boss: "Dispute it with your bank, we're taking all of THESE people with us."
Me: "motherfu--… I'll just fry an egg at the house or something."
And with that, I got my passport back and got my black ass back in my station wagon and drove the hell back home.
And to think… our passports were ONLY in that bag and still in the car because we had gone to DC a few weeks ago and figured we may encounter an ICE protest while there, and if we had we would want to participate and absolute proof of citizenship would be a good idea. I had simply neglected to remove the bag from the car when we got home.
I mean, I have brought the bag inside now but I thank God I dragged my ass on that.
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