I picked a good time. Off hours. It does slow down so the line disappears. No waiting this time. I told the girl I am not familiar with their menu, but I'd like a taco of her recommendation, a guacamole side and drink. Total 9.00. 

When I told the girl, yes, I was here before so I'm familiar with what a great deal it is and how good the food is, her face lit up as if I were complimenting her own cooking. This is my third visit and the best that I've had yet. She really did make a great recommendation. I want another one but there is no room. 

The cheese dip is delicious and great by itself. Then I realized I ordered guacamole side. Did I get the order for the people behind me? Nope. The guacamole is in there, just covered with even more cheese sauce. It's all good.

Upon leaving the lad wearing turquoise Crocks and wiping the tables said, "Sir, your backpack is unzipped. May I zip it up for you?" 

"I broke the zipper." 

"Oh. Was everything okay?" 

I told him the recommendation was the best, whatever that was, he discerned I just ate The Roadhouse, I think, then recommended The Mobile Home, I think. It all sounded odd. The place is kind of noisy. At any rate I am struck, stricken, smitten, by how positively charming the young people are who work around here. All of them are. All around here. All of them. I don't know where employers find these people but everyone I encounter is fine and that realization is continually reinforced every day. In all these encounters around in this area specifically the working young people are charmingly engaging and energetic. Parents, you raised these kids right.

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