Heading to the posada after 10 (Miguel literally chains the gate closed at 10), I knew I was already late. The chat I was having with a fellow classmate had gone way over what I had expected. I hadn’t had dinner. I was hungry, but in order to only be a half an hour late, I decided not to walk down to the Zocalo to have a hamburger from the vendor by the potato place. Although his hamburger, with its grilled onions, ham, and super hot bun, was delicious, I decided to try the stand on the way home.
He didn’t automatically pull out the ham and pineapple. He didn’t grill the onions. And, his burger wasn’t the same super hot package, but it was delicious nonetheless.
As I was standing on the corner, a car pulled up, and a man gave his order. Because we take the bus to Tlacochahuaya from near the McDonalds, I know the word they have coined for drive-thru is auto-mac. I said, “Usted tiene un auto-mac.” The chef looked up from his work and smiled.
It was the perfect walk-up and drive-up spot, and apparently the customer was a regular.
shewhodaresnothing 