Dear Taco Bell,
I know we’ve had a long and wonderful relationship over the years, but tonight, you did something that totally took me by surprise. Something that I am certain that I am not quite ready for and probably never will be. When the cashier asked me for my first name, frankly I was floored and wasn’t sure how to answer that.
You see, I prefer our relationship to be completely anonymous. Just the fact that you know that I prefer a nice crunchy taco over the limp, soft tacos already makes me a bit uncomfortable. And I know we’ve been way past third base as I will admit that eating there with you is one of my secret food prOn pleasures. Sometimes I just can’t get enough. And I know it, but I just can’t help it.
But let’s be honest here, even when I go out to a very fancy restaurant where I might spend ten times as much on dinner, they never ask me for my name. And they certainly don’t cheapen our little encounter by giving me a cashier that has trouble spelling my first name, “Bill”. No, they know their place in my life, never getting too cozy, like a really good one night stand, do you know what I mean? So if the next time I come in and you ask me for my name again, don’t be surprised if you find out it’s fake. And please don’t push me or stalk me on this issue, I would hate for our relationship to end on a sour note, like the Taco Bell in the pic on the right. Let’s don’t end it that way.
P.S. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.