adrian is rad

I live above a Peruvian restaurant. Not a lot of bad things about that (except the exhaust fan on Saturday mornings) and if I run out of food–hey, food downstairs.

A few weeks ago we went there to check the place out and say hi. I got pescado frito. You know, old school.

Anyway, we finished up and I’m at the register paying. There are these deserts with two soft, round, floury, sugary bits with a chocolate creme filling. Here’s the conversation:

Me: And could I get one of those.

Proprietress: sure

Me: And what are they called?

Her: Cookies.

Me: Oh…

I think I was swallowing my pride for much longer than I was swallowing the cookie.