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“In my restless dreams, I see that restaurant… Taco Bell.”
Mary Shepherd-Sunderland stared longingly outside of her bedroom window, in the general direction of the nearest Taco Bell. Her loving husband, James, sat beside the bed, his hand placed upon hers. “What was that, dear?” James asked, meekly. Sometimes Mary was so quiet and hoarse that he couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“James… It’s Taco Bell, James. That’s what I want right now.”
“O-Oh. I mean… Are you sure? The doctor said no fast food, and…-”
Mary suddenly snapped, (weakly) throwing her hands up in the air. “Oh, what does it matter?! I’m going to die soon anyways! Let me have my Taco Bell, dammit!”
“B-But, dear… It’s raining out, bad!”
“You can take an umbrella, asshole!”
“And the nearest Taco Bell is like, 20 minutes away, at least!”
“So!? Gas is cheap, thanks Clinton!” Mary scoffed. “50 cents a gallon! You make enough money with your white-collar job of some sort! Just go buy your lovely, ugly, beautiful, sick, lively, dying wife some goddamn Taco Bell!”
James then thought to himself. He really didn’t want to go. But… There may be some incentive. Hmmm... Well, on one hand... James began internally monologuing. That Taco Bell is a whole 20 minute drive away from here! But on the other hand... If I do get her what she wants... I might be able to sling some of that dying wife poon for the first time in six months! Think, James... Use that noggin of yours…!
He ended up coming to a decision. “O-Okay… What do you want?” James sighed, resigning his fate to having to take the ol’ clunker out to Taco Bell. He pulled out his trusty notepad that may or may not become useful in his future endeavors.
Mary snapped back into friendly mode. “Oh, dear! You’re the best. Okay… I want three soft tacos, no lettuce. A bean burrito, extra sauce, extra onion, a beefy five-layer burrito, two chalupas, some cinnamon twists, some nachos, and the biggest-sized Pepsi you can get.”
“Wow, someone’s hungry! Alrighty th-”
“What, calling me fat!? Look at me! I’m 87 pounds! All my sickness and dying has lost me so much weight I’m practically a skeleton! I don’t care, let me eat as much as I want. You can have some scraps, maybe.”
“Alright, dear…” James sighed, reluctantly kissing her disgusting, flaky, disease-ridden forehead. He always worried he would possibly catch whatever it was she had, but he hadn’t… Yet, at least. “I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
“Alright dear!” Mary smiled, going back once more to friendly mode. “And… Honey?”
“Yes, darling?”
“If you forget the nachos… I’ll fucking kill you.” She glared, then instantly went back to a weak laughter. This confused James, he wasn’t sure what mode she was in now. He decided to say nothing, and proceeded to exit his quite nice, upper-middle-class house. Taco Bell was in his fate, and what there would await?
Although Taco Bell was a mere 20 minutes away, because of the rain, people were not driving all that clever, much to James’s disdain. In fact, at the major intersection on the way to the Taco Bell, there was a freak horrible accident where someone drove off the side rail and into the nearby ditch, and everything was down to one lane! And that meant people were honking. And people were honking at James. He angrily tapped his one finger on the steering wheel. “Oh, heck!” James grunted. “I’m driving too, bozo!” He inched his way through the slippery-sloppery intersection, and finally made his way through. However… There was a traffic jam too! “Oh, crud!” James yelled, smacking his head on the wheel in frustration. “This is just bonkers out here! It’s just a light rain, come on guys!” He said as he noticed the entire inch of rain flowing down the street. “You should know how to drive by now, I do! Ugh… The things I do for Mary.”
Finally, after 25 minutes of agony, James finally arrived at the Taco Bell drive-thru. Thankfully, the line wasn’t too long, so James had a spark of hope that his dear Mary would have her Taco Bell in due time. He drove up to the speaker box (not to be confused with famed OutKast double-album Speakerboxx/The Love Below, which would be a personal favorite of James Sunderland’s if it had come out by this point), and then a voice could be heard from it. “Hello, welcome to Taco Bell! How are you doing today?”
“Oh, I’m doing well, yourself?” James responded whitely and politely.
“Oh, I’m just having a Baja Blast right now! What can I get for you today?”
James sighed at this forced corporate interaction. She was fed those lines… He thought to himself. “Um, yeah… I’ll have three soft tacos, with no lettuce, a bean burrito, extra sauce, extra onion, a beefy five-layer burrito, two chalupas, some cinnamon twists, some nachos, and the largest-sized Pepsi you guys have.”
She put in the order. “Allllright, that’ll be $20.57. Pull up to the next window, ‘kay?”
James thanked the woman, and then proceeded to pull forward. He reached the first window, where the familiar woman who just seconds ago took his order took his payment. Now… To the final window- The window of fate. James waited for a second while the young man on the other side got his order ready.
“You were having the three soft tacos of the soft, lacking that lettuce mess, a bean burrito with the sauce and the onion of the extra, pretty good one actually. And then part two, beefy burrito five-layer, with the beef and the cheese and the layers of five beef and cheese variety. Two chalupas, cinnamon ta-wists, looks like a good one for the dessert of the Taco Bell, now to part three, nachos and large Pepsi drink. So, have a nice day!” He handed James the bags of the aforementioned items.
“Uhhh… Yeah, you too, buddy!” James awkwardly laughed. He then drove off, not quite sure the kind of boy- Or was it a man- That he encountered. Nonetheless, it was a mouthful, and James had some business to take care of. Without checking the bag, he hurriedly drove home, hoping that he could beat traffic back to his perfect little suburban home.
“Mary! Soup’s on- Or should I say- Taco Bell’s on~!” James announced in a sing-song manner. Mary merely coughed and hacked away as she held out her hands and did the child-like grabby hands motion for her food. James handed her the bag, and then the gigantic bucket of Pepsi that they gave him. He was quite shocked that anyone could drink this much Pepsi without going into diabetic shock. But he supposed it didn’t matter anymore…
Mary began shuffling through the bag. “Okay…Tacos… Bean burrito, beefy five-layer… There’s my cinnamon twists, save that for later… Hmm… Two Chalupas, and… Oh. Oh… Oh…”
“Something wrong, dear?”
“Is something wrong? Is something wrong? Is that what you’re asking me?” Mary twitched her one eye in anger.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” James asked. Mary then flung the empty brown paper bag at him.
“What’s missing from my order?”
“Uh… Umm…”
“No nachos, James. No. Nachos. James. Where are they? You ordered them, didn’t you?” Mary’s glare was as scary as a scary Harry Mason.
“Wuh-Buh, of course I did!” James stuttered. “I did order it! I didn’t forget! They got it wrong, Mary!”
“Well you better fix it, dammit!”
“Oh, but… Oh, Mary, the darn Taco Bell’s 20 minutes away! It’ll be more than 40 minutes there and back! At least 50 even! Think of the gas!”
“I don’t even care about the gas right now, James… I can’t even drive right now. All I care about is that you get my nachos.”
“But Mary… Can’t I just go to the CVS and buy some tortilla chips or something?”
“JAMES!!!” Mary threw the bucket of Pepsi at him. “You better go get those nachos right now you impotent dipshit! And I’m not eating this Taco Bell until you get me my nachos! So don’t let the rest of it get cold now… Get going!!!”
James sighed, heavily, walking out the door. “Yes, Dear…” As he shut the door, he looked at himself. “D’oh… I’m all sticky. Sometimes I wish I could just smother that bitch…” He said under his breath.
23½ minutes passed. A bit of an improvement from last time, but still longer than the ETA suggested. James knew that the drive-thru was a no-go, he had to enter the building and give the employee who forgot his wife’s nachos a piece of his mind. He entered the Taco Bell, rolling up his sleeves in anger- He was ready to tussle… Verbally.
“Welcome to Taco Bell, how are you doing today?” The female employee from earlier asked.
“Not so good…” James said, slightly aggressively.
“Well I’m just having a Baja- Oh, oh. I’m sorry to hear that… How can I help, sir?”
James took a deep breath, laying his hands on the counter. “I was here forty minutes ago… And you guys forgot my wife’s nachos!” James said, whipping the receipt down onto the counter.
“Oh, um… Sorry about that, sir! Let me see… Forty minutes ago? Well, um… I’m sorry, we’ve had a big problem with people trying to pull this stunt where they say we forgot something and they’re just getting free food.”
“You think I’m lying to you?!” James asked, very defensively.
“Well, um, sir, there’s no real way to tell if you’re lying or not. So management has a strict no-replacement policy unless you check the bag right there and then.”
“Buh… Well, I wanna give the guy who packed my order a piece of my mind!”
The woman looked around awkwardly. “Um… Okay? I suppose I can let you speak to him… If you want some more nachos, just ask him and he’ll ring it up for you.”
“Yeah. I bet he will.” James crossed his arms.
The woman went back to the kitchen area, and out eventually came the very man (or was it a boy?) from earlier who packed James’s order. “Um, yes, welcome to the Taco Bell, how can I help?”
“Allllright buddy.” James pointed at him. “You just messed with the wrong guy! I came in here forty minutes ago and you forgot my wife’s nachos!”
“Oh. Uh, well…” He said, trying to recollect his nacho forgetting experience.
“My wife is sick, dying, and 87 pounds! And you’re saying I’ve gotta pay for the nachos again?! Phooey! What the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks kind of show are you running?!”
“Well, you see sir, the company of the Taco Bell says that you gotta pay for you gotta pay. Nacho Taco Bell, if that’s what you want! Then I’ll make it up in the fryers and the cheese.”
James gritted his teeth. “Company policy? What about my wife’s dying policy, huh? You think you’re gonna deny that policy?! Think again, sunshine!”
“I don’t understand death. Concept of death. You want the nachos, shall we?”
It was clear James’s white man anger was not phasing this employee at all. “Ugh… Fine. But I’m not happy about it!”
The quite-tumpy employee rang up the nachos with his hefty sausage fingers. “That’ll be one dollar with the thirty cents, please!” James handed him the cash, the coins clinking on the counter- Not even the decency of handing him the coins. The employee collected the cash, and went back, coming out rather quickly with a tiny little bag and a receipt. “Here you go, a fresh nachos with the cheese and the chips of the dipping for wife’s enjoyment.” James rather aggressively took the bag from his hands, and began to walk out of the establishment.
“Thanks, buddy…” He sneered.
Finally, after James’s long, arduous journey down the road to Taco Bell, back home, back to Taco Bell once more, then back again- In essence, it was like The Hobbit twice over- He finally returned, entering the room, sack of nachos in hand.
“And where were you, James?” Mary asked, slightly aggressively.
“Getting your nachos, Mary.” James said, saying her name very sternly. He looked into the bag, making sure the nachos were there- Indeed, they were. He then handed her the bag, but she swiped it away, the nachos falling to the floor.
“Took you too long, James.” Mary said. “My food’s cold, James.”
“Well, you could have eaten it… While I was gone, Mary!” James began to raise his voice.
“Do not raise your voice at me, James Sunderland! I am your wife! And I told you specifically that I needed the nachos while my food was still hot!”
“Mary…” James sighed. “We have a microwave!”
“That thing is a hunk of junk!”
“But… You want your food hot?! Put it in there! I got your nachos, why aren’t you happy?!”
Mary shot back; “Because you took too long! Why didn’t you drive faster?!”
James was nearly in tears. “It was raining! There was traffic! I’m a law-abiding citizen who follows the speed limit! I’ve never gotten a ticket, and I don’t want to now!”
“You wouldn’t break the law for your own wife?!” Mary yelled, weakly throwing her hands up.
James was stunned into silence. He turned, walking out the door. “Forget you! I’m going on a walk.”
“In the rain? Stupid!” James didn’t respond to this, he merely shut the door behind him, as Mary began to cry. “Don’t leave, James! I’m still hungry! You know I like people watching me eat!!!”
James Sunderland, the law-abiding citizen, did not in fact go on a walk. No, he took a drive. A drive half an hour away from him… To his favorite local strip club, The Horse (Formerly known as Wett, formerly known as The Crazy Horse, formerly known as Fantasy Island, where the “A” in fantasy island was actually in between a silhouette of a woman’s legs, how funny and clever). He sat at the bar, getting quite hammered off of scotch on the rocks, and eating plain, tasteless chicken wings as even mild sauce was too powerful for a meek little white man such as he. A stripper with two gigantic badonkers and two plump, bodacious buttcheeks walked up to James.
“Oh, hey Candii…” James sighed, taking a big swig of scotch, while also stuffing a 20 in her stripper over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. “It’s been a rough day… My dying wife had a psychotic episode over nachos of all things! Can you believe that!?” He said in a slight slur.
“Aw, honey…” Candii said, getting in close to him, her arm around him. “What can I do to help?”
“Not yell at me like my wife does, that’s one thing!” He chuckled.
“Aw, she sounds like a cunt… Why don’t you just, like, kill her or something? I mean, she’s dying isn’t she? It’d be like putting both of you out of your misery! In different ways, y’know?!” She joked. But to James, this didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded… All too real. All too plausible. All too tempting. He sat there in silence, for a minute, thinking to himself. This wasn’t an option he’d ever considered before.
You wouldn’t break the law for your own wife?!
Those words echoed through his head.
If only I could die now…
Those words also echoed through his head.
Y’know, I heard Peter’s Pillow Parlor on 4th has some really firm pillows… Could you buy me one, honey?
Those words also echoed through his head, like a sick Rule of Threes. James put the pieces together. He made a slight smirk. This was the right thing to do. It was the thing he had to do. James slowly got up, leaving $20 on the table for the bartender. “You know what, Candii? I forgot, I have to go run some errands…”
“Aww, you’re leaving me so soon? James, come on… What do you have to do that’s so important?”
He began walking and turned his head back. “Oh, just a little bit of… Pillow shopping.”