August 13, 2003

TRR’s Continuing Series of Local Eavesdropping

I overheard this conversation earlier this afternoon while placing my order at the Taco Bell at the Gallery at Market East in Center City Philadelphia. (Food-court dining at its very best, I assure you.)

After being greeted by the cashier -- “May I take your order?” -- a twentysomething female customer in the line to my left said, “I’d like a number-five combo.”

For those readers not periodically compelled to make a run “to the border,” the number-five combo consists of Nachos Grande Supreme, a Taco Supreme, and the beverage of one’s choice.

Let’s listen in from there:

Cashier: “A number-five.”

Customer: “Yeah, but I don’t want none of that white stuff on it.”

Cashier: “No ‘white stuff’?”

Customer: “Right. None of that white stuff.”

Cashier: “Do you mean sour cream?”

Customer: “I don’t know what it’s called. That goopy white stuff.”

Cashier: “It’s called sour cream. . . . For future reference.”


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