Taco Tuesday

"Your waiter will be with you in just a bit!" Announced the tall brunette hostess just before she sauntered back toward the front of the restaurant, her high ponytail swishing back and forth as she walked.  Claire didn't know why she even bothered with looking at the menu. She came here at least once every other week and always got the same thing. 

If Claire was anything, she was a creature of habit. She did the same chores on the same day every week, and followed the same daily schedule. She woke up at 7:00 in the morning and went to bed at 10:30 at night without fail. 

 These "traits" she figured, she had gotten from her amazing mother. Claire's Mom, Anna, was calm, caring, and loving. She was everything a mother should be, but she was also probably living with a bit of undiagnosed OCD. 

Growing up in her parents home, everything was always orderly. A place for everything and everything in its place. Claire and her younger brother Adam followed the house rules because to them, they just made sense. 

"Take off your shoes at the door. Hang up your bag. Put the dishes in the dishwasher." Their mother never even had to ask them twice.

It wasn't until college that Claire realized that not everybody's parents ran their households in the same way. Her roommate, Allison, had opened her eyes to that pretty quickly. 

Plates filled with leftover food, stale but not quite rotting, still sitting around their shared space long after a finished meal. Clothes had lain crumpled in a heap next to Allison's extra long twin bed instead of in the collapsible hamper not even two feet away. 

Despite their differences in both major and housekeeping, Claire and Allison became best friends and were inseparable ever since. 

Claire looks up at her now across the table at their favorite Mexican restaurant, La Paz. As broke college students they used to frequent this place quite often. Mostly for the dollar tacos de al pastor and the half price House Margaritas advertised every Tuesday but also because it was just down the street from the campus. 

The familiar sizzle of a fajita platter passes by only to be placed at the table of the couple sitting adjacent. Claire's stomach grumbles less than quietly.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Claire asks. "I'd like to order as soon as the waiter comes".

"No, I'm not sure," Allison says. "I'm trying to decide between a torta or a taco salad." She lifts her hands as if they were a scale. Weighing each option. "I should probably just stick to some chips and guac." She half whines, frowning. "My dress fitting is next week."

"Oh, stop," Claire says rolling her eyes. Allison still has the same waif like frame she had as an 18-year old. She very literally could eat anything she wanted and not gain an ounce. 

Allison's wedding was a mere four months away. Claire was of course her maid of honor. They had hoped to talk over dinner about some last minute details in the planning. But Claire wasn't going to be able to think about anything until she got something to eat. 

"Excuse me." Claire kindly asks the waitress shuffling past, "do you know who is taking care of our table?" 

"I believe your waiter is Enrico. Let me see if I can find him," She says. She disappears behind the textured clay colored wall that leads to the kitchen. 

They are looking at different table settings the venue offers and trying to decide which look best with Allison's wedding colors, champagne and navy.

"I really like this one, but I don't know if it's going to be too big. People won't be able to talk to each other," Allison exclaims. It's a picture of a gorgeous mirrored centerpiece with tons of hydrangeas and rustic decorative pieces sticking out. 

"These are beautiful! You're sure Sam doesn't want a say in this. He is the groom after all," Claire gently retorts. "I don't want to over-step."

"Oh no. He does not care in the least. He told me to just let him know what to wear and when to show up," Allison laughs and Claire does too. "I'm happy to have you helping me. All this planning has been fun but stressful!"

Claire doesn't see him approach, but suddenly standing to her right is a smiling waiter.

"I am so sorry for the wait. This is my first day," Enrico says. He is taller than average, but not quite six feet. He is slender, yet muscular, and when he smiles he has symmetrical dimples on either cheek. 

"Oh, not a problem," Allison proclaimed. "We needed a few minutes anyway, but I think we're both ready to order. Right, Claire?" 

It takes her a minute to realize that Allison has said her name. "Y'..yes. We're ready to order, "Claire stammers. "You go ahead and start."

Allison orders the House Margarita on the rocks with the taco salad. Then Enrico turns to face Claire. She knew what she was going to order. It's the same thing she gets every time she comes here. A Steak Chimichanga and a Diet Coke, so that is why it's strange that she hears what she says next before she realizes that it's coming out of her mouth,"What would you suggest?" Claire asks. 

"Uhh, well, as I said it is my first day but I have eaten here before. But only a few times. I like to keep it simple. Très tacos de Pollo. The chicken taco dinner," he offers, immediately translating. 

"That sounds great! I'll have that, Claire says, beaming. "And a sangria with a glass of water please."

Enrico takes down the order, finally noticing how flustered Claire had become.

"I will have the drinks out as soon as possible ladies." Claire is almost sure she sees him wink before he turns away.

"What's with you?" Allison asks incredulously. "I have never seen you act like that before." 

"I..I don't know. He's cute though right?" Claire asks, blushing the faintest bit. 

"Yes. Super cute. But can we please go over some of the wedding deets? Starting with...maybe we do need to add a plus one for you into the final count," Allison laughs. 

Claire lets out a quiet giggle as well. Maybe she was overdue for some spontaneity, and Enrico seemed like the perfect place to start.