Last Sunday I stopped to get tacos at a spot on California after skating Clemente. I ordered "2 steak, onions, cilantro," and they were promptly delivered with ketchup and mustard squeeze bottles. I asked which one was hotter and was told, "the green but just a little." Having no chips to test them I went ahead and gave one taco a healthy squirt of the red salsa from the ketchup bottle, the other taco got the green sauce that lives in the mustard container. First taco was perfect. Excellent charred salty seasoned steak bits, the red sauce adding a welcome bit of heat and brightness. Finished that up in 3 bites. On to the next one and on the first bite I felt the heat on my tongue. The second bite it was warming my lungs. The heat kept spreading with each bite and as I biked home I could feel the heat coating my stomach and radiating out of my eyeballs.
I was going to write about that for the essay this week but I had a nagging feeling I'd already written about it before and then it dawned on me that I keep living that scenario over and over. Maybe that's the equation I need to solve to move forward or to reach enlightenment. I'm not sure what the answer is. Leave the salsa off? No chance. Stop eating tacos? Not an option. If the salsa is hot only use a tiny drop? I just don't think I have that kind of common sense. I'll keep trying to figure out a solution and let you know if I ever unlock the answers to life's great mystery. In the meantime, if you ever miss an email or you see that it's Friday and no email has been delivered, you can always check out the archive link on the Serial Dispatch instagram. If you know anyone who might enjoy this weekly special delivery send them in that direction.