The Secret of the Breakfast Taco

I’ve found a new author.  She combined murder mystery with faerie.  I like her books.  

Today’s Exploit:

I’m working with Matt again.  He’s the one I convinced to run with me.  He decided we should go on my normal run of 4-5 miles.  He hadn’t run in 6.1 months.  I thought he was going to die.

Anyway, this rig that we’re on is mostly populated by hispanic roughnecks.  

That means they cook tacos every shift.  

Morning = Breakfast tacos (Egg and bacon and chorizo, and sometimes peppers)

Evening = Fajitas (Whatever they have on hand)

Each morning they call and tell me they have tacos.

So far I’ve gone up, even though I don’t like eggs or bacon.  I went to be nice because they get offended if I say “No” too much.  

Roughneck 1:  You’d better get some before it’s gone!

Me:  I will, I’m just waiting for the line to get shorter.

Roughneck 2:  Don’t be shy, go get some!

Me:  Ok, I will in a minute.

Roughneck 3:  Oh, look.  No line, you’d better go get a taco before they’re gone.

Me:  Ok, ok.  I’m going.

Roughneck 2:  Only one?

Roughneck 1: Have another, before it’s gone.

Me:  Give me a minute!

Roughneck 3:  You’d better get in there before the line starts again.

Me:  You called me up here to finish this for you, didn’t you.  You’re not really worried about not having enough.  I heard you talking about having leftovers yesterday!

Roughnecks:  ...No?...