A Bump and a Baja Blast

Two white collar co-workers, Tim and Jake, sit down in a booth at Taco Bell

“Man, I haven’t had a Chalupa in years,” Tim says.

Jake opens his bag and lays out his order. “I’m telling you, man, you should’ve gotten the Waffle Dorito Kit Kat Quesadilla with the Cap’n Crunch Delights.”

“Ha.” Tim snorts. “Yeah, next time I’ll just order the diabetes by the pound.”

Jake pulls a plastic baggy from the inner pocket of his Patagonia performance fleece sweater and pours a clump of white powder on the table.

“Dude.” Tim’s eyes flick between Jake and the tiny white hill." Is that-"

“Ssssh. Hold on.” Jake smooths the hill out with a Costco club card and cuts it into lines.

“Is that coke?”

“Of course.”

“What do you mean ‘of course’??” Tim leans in, whispering. “You can’t do coke in here!”

Jake shrugs. “I always do coke at Taco Bell.”

“Off a fast food table??”

“I have a Baja Blast and I do coke.” Jake gestures to his aquamarine drink. “I’d have a diet coke with my coke, but they only serve Pepsi products.”

“Why are you snorting coke at Taco Bell?”

Jake takes a hit. “Ugh. Oh yeah.”

“Jesus.” Tim nervously scans the room.

Jake rubs his whitened nose. “To show the Columbians I’m not racist.”

“What?”

“The President of Columbia said that cocaine is no worse than whiskey and the only reason it’s illegal is because Americans are racist against South America.”

“You’re not allowed to drink whiskey in here either!”

“Dude, you gotta chill. Here.” Jake offers the Costco card. “A bump will take the edge off.”

“I am not taking coke to calm down. Coke doesn’t even work like that!”

Jake leans back in the booth. “Always does for me.”

“Taco Bell isn’t even Columbian, you idiot!”

“No? Oh.” Jake shrugs. “It’s still from South America, right?”

“Taco Bell was founded by a white guy in California!”

“…really?”

“Really!”

“Oh my God.” Jake sits up. “We gotta get out.”

A Taco Bell worker spots the men. “Yo bro, is that coke? Hey these out here crackers blowin’ snow!”

Tim snatches his bag. “No shit we gotta get out of here!”

Jake frantically palms the powder into the baggy. “Quick, where’s the nearest Chipotle?” Ω¹