My bright idea on this afternoon's ride was to forgo packing food, which is normally pb+j, in favor of buying tortillas from a roadside stand. Yesterday I passed no fewer than 4 of these oases and so today, even though I chose a different route, I figured I'd find a similar amount.
No sirree. There were none. And all I had in the belly was some chocochip pancakes from early in the morning. They were wearing thin and my tummy was growling. Finally, in the last half hour of my ride I found the sketchiest non-roadworthy trailer in the city, with no lights and scratchy handwritten menus taped to the outside. And it was parked in someone's front yard. But it had a neon open sign, which is apparently my only requirement for food.
I couldn't see anyone but a quick "Senor? Abierto?" revealed the proprietor. She cooked me up 3 buttered flour tortillas for a quarter a pop and passed them over the counter in foil. She chuckled when I apologized for the sweaty Lincoln, "Lo siento para mi dinero mojado."
That's the first time I've been able to use that phrase since learning it in 8th grade Spanish class.