I'm starving. Ok, not literally, but, you know. I'm hungry.
After an hour or two of indecision (which only made me hungrier), the boyfriend made the executive decision to order delivery from the local taqueria, lest I spend all night whining, "I'm hungry, I don't know what I want."
He called to place the order, and then turned to me and said, "They said it's going to be an hour. Do you still want it?" Knowing it was feast or the famine-of-indecision, I agreed to prolong my misery an hour more. He gave our order and as he hung up, I heard him give the address.
And give the address again.
And the cross street.
And the cross street again.
And then I heard him saying, "It's next to an abandoned building."
I started laughing and shaking my head.
When he got off the phone he said, "What? What's so funny?"
"You can't give directions that include 'It's next to the abandoned building,' they'll never come."
"What? Why not?"
"You might as well have said, 'Come down here into the ghetto, go past the projects, when you see the car fire on your left and the dead cop on your right, wait right there. Two guys with masks and crowbars will meet you."
He decided to call the tacqueria back and tell them he'd pick up the order.