The Open Letter Chronicles records the written letters of Kansas born actor/writer MDW and the social and often comical commentary of her everyday life experiences in Los Angeles. "Enjoy. I hope you laugh or at least smile."
Friday, February 2, 2018
Dear Taco Truck Stationed In The Car Wash Lot On Vermont Ave
There is no other way to say it but to just come out and say it, I think I love you. The way you stealthily back into the car wash parking lot around 6:30pm; just after the last over-priced Lexus has been spot wiped. Your huge, boxy frame gliding on 4 wheels arrives, like a Prius, barely making a sound and sitting high above the rest. You are a SEXY BEAST. And I admire the way you stay grounded by strategically placing wedged blocks of wood behind each tire. You can't be too careful. We don't want you to roll away. And the people who steer your orange and red steel frame filled with meat and tortillas are the best. You're parked now and that's when the ceremony begins: the lowering of the canopy. Removing all the white plastic fold up chairs and card tables from your carriage and placing them on the wet sudsy lot; one long row of chairs and then four at each table. You like to keep it simple; no frills- using natural light for the table at first and then street lights after dark to set the mood. But do we really need the extra light with the neon glow that permeates from you when you hook up the generator? The flashing ticker tape sign and the 2 flat screen TV's that blast Telemundo and Univision are all the light we need. But the best part is the rolling condiments bar, complete with sneeze guard; filled with fresh cut salsa and limes and cilantro and radishes and cucumbers and onions each having their own metal tongs. You even supply us with napkins and tiny plastic bags if we decide to dine at home. You have thought of everything. You look in my eyes and ask for my order in English. I answer,"carne asada or dos pollo." You give me the "nice try" smile because my Spanish is horrible. You gently hand me my number then I wait to be called. I wait in line behind countless others of all races: Korean, Nigerian, Hispanic, Black, White, all salivating for your delicious food. But you do more than feed us. You unite us. We are all equal under your salsa stained canopy each hovering over the condiments bar getting our part of your perfectly seasoned, chopped, grilled heaven that you have promised us. And there is plenty for everyone. As it should be. You are one of the things I am proud of in America. Hmm,a thought... The United Colors of Taco Stands. It should be a movement and you should lead. And that's why I love you Taco Truck Stationed In The Car Wash Lot On Vermont Ave. Until tomorrow evening... MDW
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