We've come to that time of year when a body can say to themself, "Tacos sound good," and hop in the car for a quick dash to the local Taco Hut.
Only to be met with endless lines of orange cones placed strategically to block your route to tacoy goodness. A simple detour sure to get you closer to your goal is only met with flashing construction signs and more orange cones.
Hours, perhaps days, go by -- time looses all meaning as you wonder helplessly from street to street never getting closer to your goal. The red light next to the little gas pump on the dash begins to blink.
As you come to the conclusion that there is just NO WAY to get to Taco Hut (and perhaps no way to get home, as well), Taco Shack comes into view.
You'd promised yourself you'd never eat at Taco Shack again. Not after . . . the incident. But desperate times and all that.
Sure, you've feasted on crunchy beefy cheesy tastiness. But now you see the cones, the signs, the flashing lights as you pull back onto the road. You're never going to make it home in time.