When I go to Taco Bell, I generally order one of two things: either some hard tacos and some nachos, or the #6, which is 2 chalupas of your choice, a hard taco, and drink. You may even be able to choose between gorditas and chalupas, I'm not sure; I don't like gorditas so I never get them.

Tonight, I was starved. I worked at the damn pool from 1:30 until 9 pm. I didn't get anything to eat. I figured I'd forgo having one of the cooks make me something and just pick up some tacos on the way home from work. I stopped at the state road taco bell, since it's the one closest to my house. I generally don't like going to that Bell, because it doesn't have a drive through.
And after tonight, I may not go back there again, I'll make the effort to stop either on Graham or Chapel Hill.

I ordered my #6, with nacho cheese chalupas, no tomatoes. Hard taco, Dr. Pepper to drink (mmmmm). The girl confirmed my order, "that's nacho cheese beef, right" to which I replied, "yeah, and no tomatoes."

So, I get my order (after being freaked out by the guys behind me who seemed more than a bit stoned, and the one guy actually tried to take my order before I got my hands on it. Bastard.), and I drive home. I dive into the bag once I hit the living room, and pull out my first chalupa. I open it up, and the first thing I notice, is the fact that there are tomatoes on my chalupa. Then I notice an odd ranch-like sauce oozing out of the side of the chalupa. Finally, I realize that that's not even a chalupa shell. I'm pissed. So I check the other one, same thing. tomatoes, odd sauce, wrong shell. So I eat the hard taco, snarf down the nachos, and haul my butt back into my car and back to Taco Bell, pissed as all hell.

the girl who took my order tried to tell me that's what I ordered. I told her, no, I ordered nacho cheese chalupas, NO TOMATOES. She gets all shrity with me, but I insist. I know what I ordered, bitch. So the chalupas get remade, but I can hear the girl giving attitude about it. Whatever, I know what I ordered, and bitch, YOU REPEATED MY ORDER BACK TO ME. How the hell do you mix up GOR-DI-TAS with CHA-LU-PA? C'mon, the only thing they have in common is three syllables!!!

I grab my bag and take off. Get home, open up my lovely chalupa, and what do I find?

The bitch made them with chicken. ~facepalms~