The Bell Tolls For Indigestion

As many of you know from the post below, yesterday was Will's Birthday. I would've liked to have been able to spend the day together hiking in the mountains, sailing, or hanging out at the beach, but instead, this is the first week back to UCSB for the Fall quarter. So, I spent the day dodging skate boards, bikes, roller-blades, overflowing boobs, ass-cracks (WHEN? WHEN ARE THEY GOING TO START PULLING THEIR PANTS UP???), perfume and cologne (more is not better) and 18-20-something year old hormones ragging everywhere. At that age, it's like they let their penises and pussies guide their path,



much like a pipe looking for water, no bulldozer or cameraman are going to get in the way.

I wrapped all of Will's gifts in the morning, not realizing that we didn't have much wrapping paper and no scotch tape, I used the rest of "Your having a baby" wrapping paper and masking tape. No one tell Gay Headquarters, I'll be kicked out.

I had previously asked Will where he wanted to go for his Birthday dinner. Or would he like me to cook? We're going out for sushi on Saturday night with his family and some friends to celebrate, so we'll do sushi then. (DO sushi then? That sounds kind of naughty.) I asked if he'd like to go to our favorite Moroccan place; Chef Karim's? We always have a great time there. Incredible food and belly dancing (more boobs and ass crack). Chef Karim is just an awesome fellow who comes out and greets everyone always acting as though you're his long lost best friend. We adore him. And he French kisses like nobody's business. That costs extra.

So then I asked about another one of his favorites, The Palace? No one French kisses us there, just great French-Cajun-Creole cuisine. What about Holdren's? Fantastic steaks, fantastic ambiance, they're too busy to be French kissing anyone.

"No", he says..."I want to go to TACO BELL and order a bunch of shit."

***crickets in the meadow at dusk***

Me, "Huh? Oh...hahahahahaha, that's funny, okay, now where would you like to go?"

8:30 pm, last night, we're the only ones in a Taco Bell. I didn't even know what to order. I remember years ago in college, when I would make a late night Taco Bell run, being completely drunk, I'd order something like 40 meximelts and 60 soft tacos. So, I say to the cashier, "It's his Birthday."

***crickets in the meadow at dusk***

I don't know why I said this, maybe I thought that they'd give him a free Burrito Supreme with a side of botulism. The cashier didn't even smile, he just stared. It was obvious we weren't going to be French kissing him. He was probably thinking, "LOSERS! I'm totally calling Gay Headquarters and having them kicked out! I can't believe that they did this...WHAT NERVE!" He DID give us all the mild, medium, or hot sauce we wanted. And as many napkins as we'd like...See? We scored.

We split:

6 Tacos
4 Burritos
2 Enchiritos
2 Meximelts (they still have them)
and
2 Stomach aches.