Every so often, I get myself into these arguments. You know the type...where you are so sure you are correct but the other person is so sure you are wrong and there's no solution really but to give up and pretend that they are right, even though you know you are right and they are wrong.
I went to a Mexican restaurant in London once with my crazy Romanian friend. She had never had Mexican food before. So we went and I ordered some fajitas and my Romanian friend ordered a burrito and we sat back to gossip and drink copiously cheap margaritas. Our server was from somewhere east of Germany and admitted to never having Mexican food at all either. In her entire life. "Not even during your lunch break?" I asked. "Surely there must be an employee discount of sorts?"
"No," she said. "And I vould not vant to eat it . For me, it is too svicy. And there are no potatoes."
Eventually, our food arrived and my fajitas came out sizzling--as they should--on a long metal board of sorts. They looked perfectly acceptable, given that London is not really very close to Mexico and my request for an agua downstairs at the bar was met with blank stares. This was going to be okay.
"So you'll bring the tortillas in a second, right?" I asked.
"What tortillas?" says our server.
"The tortillas that come with the fajiatas."
"Fajitas don't come with tortillas."
"Um, yes they do...
"Not here they don't."
"Um, I've eaten a lot of fajitas in my life. They always come with tortillas."
Our server looked mildly annoyed. "Well, we don't serve them that way here. Sorry." She moved to walk away.
"But wait...can't I buy some tortillas? I mean, if I have to pay, I'll pay."
"We don't have any tortillas to buy."
I looked pointedly at my friend's burrito. "Um, okay. I see a tortilla right there, but if you won't let me pay for any tortillas, how about some nacho chips?"
"You'll have to pay for those."
Great. Done. But even my Romanian friend in all her Eastern-bloc-ness was trying to argue for the server. "Krista, this isn't Mexico. They probably don't have tortillas here. It's not like ordering Mexican in the U.S."
"But that's a tortilla right in front of you!!" I shouted. "Your burrito is IN a tortilla."
"But maybe it's a different kind of tortilla..."
"There is only ONE kind of tortilla. And it's right there!!" I stabbed her burrito with my fork. "And fajitas are always served with tortillas!!!"
A few minutes later, as I was scooping up my chicken and onions with nacho chips, our server returned and dropped a container of freshly microwaved tortillas on the table, said nothing, and disappeared.