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i bet there were guys in the 1800s who were super fucking Reddit about everything, but no one had the right word yet for why those guys were so annoying. so they just had to wonder
I recently saw it pointed out elseTumblr that, a remarkably easy detail to miss, she is going for her hatpin. The clear social cues are about to escalate.
I for one think that is very valid of her and that hatpinning That Guy should still be considered a socially acceptable and perhaps even laudable option.
Acetaminophen/paracetamol has a hard stop upper dose limit, above which it becomes extremely toxic.
That limit is 4g (8 “extra strength” (500mg) tablets) in 24 hours (about 2 tablets every 6 hours).
A single dose of 22 extra strength tablets can kill you.
Taking 12 or more tablets per day for more than a week can also kill you (this is about 3 tablets every 6 hours).
Symptoms of overdose take up to 24 hours to manifest, and are fairly difficult to distinguish from other problems. They include abdominal pain (especially right upper quadrant), nausea, malaise, and confusion.
The antidote (n-acetylcystine) must be given within 8hours of ingestion in order to be useful.
After 10 hours the only thing that will work is a liver transplant.
You might think “why would I ever accidentally take so much?”
Well, acetaminophen is in almost everything in the cold/flu/pain aisle. Migraine combos like Excedrin, cold and flu combos like NyQuil, basically anything that says “non-aspirin pain relief”, and anything that’s branded as a fever reducer. It’s all probably acetaminophen/paracetamol.
So the goal of this post is to get you to read the labels on your medications. Because taking taking Tylenol and NyQuil together for a week (like you might if you had the flu) could kill you.
Please don't forget this shit, after it happened to a family member, he died 8 years later because of the continuing health complications even though he survived the initial overdose
Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.
My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God. He taught himself how to use his smartphone. Internationally.
So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.
It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity.
“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”
The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.
a.k.a: A Selfie.
“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.
Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.
“Oh. You should have said so.” Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.
Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.
“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid. My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment.
Alas.
Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution: He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.
But I digress.
After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.
And here is where the real trouble began.
See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose. While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.
He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada. He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.
He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.
She looked back at him, and farted.
“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her.
She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.
So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.
The System thought about it for a few moments.
Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.
“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”
He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.
“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.
Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System. It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”. He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.
As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.
“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.
“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.
Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room. It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds. Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.
“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled.
“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.
Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.
“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan. With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.
This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.
“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted. The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.
Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.
“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.
He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face.
She did not have the phone.
“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.
Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape. She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.
“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.
To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!
“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”
---
I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.
It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times. Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System. It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.
“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy! My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year. I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”
He handed me the image.
My father was, technically, in the image. A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.
Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.
“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”
“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing).
“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”
Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked car?” he asked suspiciously.
“The very same.” Dad grinned.
“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”
---
I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!
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Can't wait for the uniqueness of the holocaust to be a topic of importance in a political campaign in america in 2024. That's how it should be. That's normal
It's true, the Holocaust isn't unique, it holds the largest impact because it is the most recent one, at least for jews, given time other genocides will overshadow it, and it should be taught in the same vein as other historic atrocities.
There was the Effacer le tableau.
The Hutu massacres of the first Congo war.
The Rwandan Genocide.
The Bosnian Genocide.
The Isaaq Genocide.
The Anfal campaign.
The Gukurahundi.
The Cambodian Genocide.
The East Timor Genocide.
The Ikiza.
The Bangladesh Genocide, which may have a repeat very soon.
The Holodomor.
The Great Leap Forward.
The Armenian Genocide.
I can go on.
To limit education to but one atrocity, when all of these happened in the same century is an attempt to reframe or even hide these atrocities, for instance I have seen many socialists defend both the Holodomor and the Armenian Genocide, it does those being educated a disservice by treating the Holocaust as unique while surrounded by a myriad of other heinous genocides.
I mean the context in the screenshot provided is obviously correct and vindicates what Walz is saying. Someone screenshotted that as proof Walz was wrong because they could not read the words in it, just that it somehow disagrees with them.
He fucking says, right there, "to exclude other acts of genocide severely limited students' ability to synthesize the lessons of the Holocaust and ability to apply them elsewhere," that's the quote that this thread's OP and Twitter OP both looked at and got enraged by without reading! Guess what? If you teach people the Holocaust was completely unique and unprecedented and unrelated to any other patterns of behavior, the take-home lesson is that it might as well have been done by space aliens and there's no reason to be concerned with what humans are doing!
and by divorcing the Holocaust from all other genocides, it also allows people to not have a framework of other mass atrocities, which surprisingly enough seems to make them believe that the holocaust could have actually NOT happened, considering how they don't have a framework about how often atrocities happen.
the follow-up here is that when walz taught his class of sophomore high school students about the holocaust, he had them extensively study other genocides and the social conditions that preceded them. the class wrapped up with a group project trying to predict where the next genocide was most likely to take place
(this was in 1993)
and where did they collectively conclude the next genocide was most likely to happen?
Rwanda.
if, like me, you can't remember the date of the Rwandan genocide off the top of your head, it kicked off in April 1994.
So ... when Tim Walz says that studying the Holocaust as part of a pattern is vitally important, he is not talking out of his ass.
As a social studies educator... this is exactly how you teach the Holocaust to help students develop critical thinking and analysis skills. It's how you teach empathy.
The Holocaust is not a unique genocidal event. It's not even the only genocide from WWII. It's only unique in that it was the primary motivation in the education and policy changes which eventually led to our current framework for classifying human atrocities. This is likely because the Nazis *documented* the genocide and were not overly shy in their record keeping. Much of which survived their government's downfall. The Armenia Genocide, in comparison, was covered up by the Turkish government. Others were 'justified' as conquest or as a by product of war. (Sound familiar to anyone?) It may also have had a bigger impact because the US and Europe had been primed by atrocity after atrocity for over a decade. It was the final straw that pushed many people into taking action.
If you teach the Holocaust without teaching about the framework for human rights and the resulting criminal definitions for genocide, ethnic cleansing, etc you are doing your students a disservice. Social studies education, and thus history education, is not about teaching events, it's about teaching skills. The Holocaust is a case study. Ideally, I'd say it's the example presented to students who are then required to research other genocides so they can analyze the factors, just like Walz had them do.
The Holocaust shouldn't be the first genocide a student of US history hears about either. Or are y'all ignoring the inspiration the Nazis took from the Trail of Tears and the multiple genocides perpetrated against the indigenous populations of America? Chattel slavery? Ring any bells? We could go on.
Walz was doing this in the 90s, which means he was a damn good educator, because this is considered best practice now. It's only controversial if you don't understand the *stated purpose* of social studies education in the United States. Which, I'm aware, the average American does not. That's how we ended up with our current issues.
If you want to call Walz out on his views regarding genocide... maybe focus on the one happening right now, and what he plans to do about it, given he hopefully will be our future vice president. He sure as hell can't deny what's happening in Palestine is a genocide. Spent 20 years teaching the definition didn't he?
hypothetical scenario for you all: the real king arthur returns. you meet him and you welcome him into your home. what is the first thing you do with him? keep in mind, this is a man from the 500s (he died in 542), and you are from the 21st century (2024).
Not that anybody asked, but I think it's important to understand how shame and guilt actually work before you try to use it for good.
It's a necessary emotion. There are reasons we have it. It makes everything so. much. worse. when you use it wrong.
Shame and guilt are DE-motivators. They are meant to stop behavior, not promote it. You cannot, ever, in any meaningful way, guilt someone into doing good. You can only shame them into not doing bad.
Let's say you're a parent and your kid is having issues.
Swearing in class? Shame could work. You want them to stop it. Keep it in proportion*, and it might help. *(KEEP IT IN PROPORTION!!!)
Not doing their homework? NO! STOP! NO NOT DO THAT! EVER! EVER! EVER! You want them to start to do their homework. Shaming them will have to opposite effect! You have demotivated them! They will double down on NOT doing it. Not because they are being oppositional, but because that's what shame does!
You can't guilt people into building better habits, being more successful, or getting more involved. That requires encouragement. You need to motivate for that stuff!
If you want it in a simple phrase:
You can shame someone out of being a bad person, but you can't shame them into being a good person.
"why are all the new housing locations more expensive than the 50 year old ones" because they're not dog shit thin-walled landlord-white-painted shoeboxes. Do you get confused why the new cars cost more than the used ones too?
I have a post buried in my backlog about "every new housing project should be luxury housing" which is this same point. In a market that is behind the supply curve, the affordable housing is always going to be the old housing, because it is worse by being old. Unless you build deliberately crappy housing that people don't want to live in, then people will bid the new ones up over the actually-crappy housing people still have to live in.
Though also guys y'all can take the credibility down a notch. They are "luxury" because branding. They aren't that fancy or anything, just like that diner doesn't actually have the world's #1 coffee.
Oh this is a post about developed countries, you can't apply any of this to post-apocalyptics wastelands like England's housing policy. I don't think humans are even capable of understanding what is going on over there.
Though, meme-ing aside, I doubt this is true. I haven't seen a full analysis or anything but there hasn't been any big indicators of shifting quality issues or big drops in regulatory standards in the recent past. People are just weird about wood-frame buildings sometimes, it's fine guys, brick or concrete isn't like inherently superior for all things.
What most people don't really get imo is that building housing to last "100 years" is probably pointless - most things don't last that long for non-critical ther factors. They will be renovated, demolished, and such for other causes well before that. ~50 year lifespans are the norm, and I think regulatory agencies in the UK target something like 60 years for that reason. Yes people in the UK do still sometimes live in 100+ year old homes, but A: most don't, those are pretty rare, B: they generally suck, with higher energy bills and more day-to-day issues, and C: have had extensive renovation and maintenance done on them. Demolishing them and rebuilding would probably have been better, but that is often regulatorily prohibited or people prefer the aesthetic and will pay more to preserve it (fair enough). The UK's old housing stock is one of its big problems, actually.
If you want a building to last centuries it just costs more to make! So rents/prices will be higher, which you don't want. For some buildings that can be worth it, government buildings, libraries, etc, things you know will stand the test of time. But generally it isn't necessary to build a random 3 story apartment complex like that.
This is true! Unironically, we should build podium apartments but also build elaborate castle estates that last generations as public parks and esoteric event spaces. We can have both, don't let your dreams be dreams.
American media has given me the understanding that the reason their houses don't last is because they're all made of wet cardboard, unlike here where unless you're dirt poor your house is always made of thick concrete blocks.
38% of the UK's housing stock was built before 1946. There's then a huge swathe of our housing stock that was built in the immediate aftermath of WWII. People living in 100+ year old houses is not rare, it's the norm if you live in any major city and only going to get more common over the next 2 decades. 200+ years is unusual, but 100+ is totally normal. Our cities were built during the Industrial Revolution.
So setting aside that weird bit of misinformation, the thing you have to remember about our aging housing supply is that it has survived. Some of the old terraces are shit, but the really crap houses got pulled down in the 80s, if they hadn't been flattened in the Blitz. The shit new houses, though, the ones that are developing cracks and plumbing issues and subsidence before the sale completes and that are built on floodplains so they flood the first winter, those are less than 20 years old, so they're all still standing. The well-built ones will survive like the well-built Victorian stock has done, but we genuinely have a problem with shit construction currently
In New Zealand the high-quality houses, ironically, include former social housing, because when it was built the intention was to get at least a few generations of New Zealanders who didn't necessarily have the money or skills to take care of it, growing up in each house. These were a serious investment by the government!
And then they fucking sold them all and now social housing is shitboxes again.
One day I aspire to owning one of the semi-detached weatherboard staties but fuck me they're expensive, and rightly so.
Also, even our expensive housing is wood framed, because we're good at trees and bad at 'ground that reliably stays still enough for living in concrete to be a good idea'.
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John Giles, the Republican Mayor of Mesa, Arizona, wrote an OpEd today for the Arizona Republic stating the reasons why he is endorsing Kamala Harris for President. Mesa is the 3rd largest city in Arizona, and the Arizona Republic is the largest newspaper by circulation in the crucial battleground state.
Giles listed the following reasons why he can't support Donald Trump:
1. He refused to accept the outcome of the 2020 election, and continues to do so.
2. He continues to trash the American legal system to delegitimize it.
3. He orchestrated the "fake elector" scheme in Arizona.
4. He orchestrated the sham "audit" of the election by the Arizona Senate and Cyber Ninjas.
5. He blocked the bipartisan border bill negotiated in the Senate.
6. He treated Infrastructure Week like a joke when cities like his badly needed it.
7. He is a convicted felon and threat to the nation.
8. He has threatened to abandoned NATO.
9. He has eroded public confidence in our institutions.
10. His advisors and associates drafted Project 2025, which is a threat to our freedoms.
11. He is crude and vulgar.
Giles then listed the reasons why he isn't just anti-Trump, he is also pro-Harris:
1. The Administration delivered on their promise with infrastructure funding for the Phoenix-Mesa Airport, and made technological investments in the transportation sector.
2. Thousands of new jobs are being created in Arizona with the CHIPS Act.
3. She has taken a strong stand against gun violence.
4. She has taken a strong stand for women's rights which are under assault from MAGA Republicans.
Giles then concluded with the following:
"We can choose a future for our children and grandchildren based on decency, respect and morality — or succumb to the crudeness and vulgarity of Trump and J.D. Vance and the far-right agenda they would champion.
Arizona leaders like McCain and Sen. Mark Kelly have embodied the commitment to country over party. And it’s that same high caliber of character and leadership I see in Vice President Harris.
That’s why I’m standing with her. Kamala Harris is the competent, just and fair leader our country deserves. This year too much is at stake to vote Republican at the top of the ticket.
It will take Arizona Republicans, independents and Democrats standing together against a far-right agenda. Let us put country over party by voting to stop Trump and protect our democracy."
Powerful stuff.
Winning back Arizona is crucial for Donald Trump. It is difficult to see any electoral path to victory for Trump without Arizona. He has continued to support candidates in that state like Kari Lake and Blake Masters who are toxic to moderate voters. He continues to attack the McCain family, who remain popular with those same moderate Arizona voters.
This endorsement by Giles certainly doesn't help Donald Trump, and gives a big boost to Kamala Harris in Arizona.
writing historical fiction will make you google things like “when we’re towels invented?” “how much did a towel cost in American in 1885?” “historical average number of towels owned per household”
I’ll use a word or idiom and then be like “no, that seems pretty modern” and start googling its etymological origins and fall down a rabbit hole for several hours
I’ll start googling about the general area the story is based in and what was going on around there at that time. and then become transfixed by the juiciest small town drama of the 19th century. anyway. it’s about the journey.
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hang on a sec. this belt was, in all likelihood, not formed by knitting, but by nalbinding.
nalbinding is sometimes called “one-needle knitting,” and they do look very similar, but the method of construction is completely different. nalbinding uses a single needle (more like a large, blunt sewing needle than a knitting needle) to loop shorter lengths of yarn onto itself. it’s hardier and less prone to unraveling than knitting, since nalbound stitches are almost like knots.
[ID: a diagram showing the method of construction of the nalbinding “coptic stitch,” the stitch that most resembles knitting.]
so why do i think this example is nalbound instead of knit? because as far as i can tell, the earliest extant example of knitting dates to the 12th century AD at the very earliest. nalbinding goes at least as far back as the 3rd-5th century AD. here’s an article from the victoria & albert museum explaining just that.
plus, i think the hardier nature of nalbinding would be better for a belt anyway. this belt appears to be constructed in a tube—if it were knit, this would probably be far stretchier than you’d want for a belt. nalbinding would hold its shape better, imo.
the louvre caption does state that the method of construction is tricot, which google tells me is french for knitting. (i’d love to know from someone who speaks french if tricot is also the term for nalbinding.) but as i said before, they really do look very similar until you get into them & examine the structure, & it’s not uncommon for even museums to make this mistake.
anyways…… if anyone has evidence that this actually is knit, lmk because that would set the development of knitting way earlier than is currently supposed. but if not—nalbinding is cool, too, check it out!!
I was scrolling down looking for this reply because I thought the same thing, but I looked it up and apparently there's some indication that this method, and even this specific piece, might be compound knitting! Possibly but not necessarily done on a peg loom
The earliest known specimen of true knitting has been dated to 425-594 CE. By comparison with similar objects from Egypt, it may also have o
After all the computery shenanigans, it's high time for a proper textile post again. And fortunately, I have just the topic!
When I was at
I, a socal native, was wandering through Edinburgh. For reasons too complicated to explain here, I had not eaten or slept in roughly 24 hours. I was exhausted, maddeningly hungry, and hungover. I wanted something that tasted like home. There was a burrito place.
It was a standard store layout, the line of cooks waiting to assemble the burrito step by step, little troughs of ingredients laid out before me. In a land of unfamiliar, alien cuisine like Greggs and Pret A Manger, I was finally in familiar territory. I understood this.
One steak burrito please.
I watch this poor Scottish woman grab a cold flour tortilla from a plastic bag. It is so stale it clicks as it hits the counter. She drops a tongful of cubed carne asada into the center. It bounces.
My choice of beans was the first thing to throw me. No black. No refried. My choices were white, kidney and large. I went for white.
The rice was visibly undercooked. The cheese was certainly not Oaxaca, but let's be fair, even a lot of American taquerias don't use Oaxaca. I just needed something white and reasonably melty, and I trust the Scots when it comes to cheese. Things were odd but going steady. I was going to get my burrito.
But then, dear reader, this woman dips a ladle into the thinnest, wateriest, greyest looking guacamole I have ever seen. There are chunks of raw avocado floating in what appears to be cucumber water. I initially mistook it for a ceviche or unusually chunky salsa. And this woman really lays it on. She soaks my burrito like some kind of avocado based baptism mishap. All I can do is sit and watch as a puddle of greenish sweat forms under the tortilla. The ship was sinking. I needed to get out now while there was still time.
"That's perfect." I say.
I have nothing but empathy for this cook. None of this was her fault. I watch in placid horror as she attempts to fold Davvy Jones tortilla into working order. The tortilla is so stale it is audibly crackling as it splits and creaks. Beans and cheese gush from a crack in the starboard side. Another break. Another. But all is not lost. An enterprising coworker swoops in with a second tortilla, staunching the wound. A layer of foil reinforces the patch. Total repair cost is about fifteen pounds.
I sit. I unwrap. I am deliriously hungry. I take a bite without looking.
A bog body of a tortilla. Cold in some places, soggy in others, mysteriously sticky in yet others. Rubbery carne asada haunted by the memory of the ghost of cumin. Rice so undercooked it was biting me back. Beans so underdone they're writing on my teeth like chalk on a blackboard. Everything is fucking wet. There is a smell, but no discernable taste of avocado. Cheese was fine.
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