Three months ago, one of the women who works there and I got into a conversation about our dogs. Her dog, she told me, was named "Tater Salad" after a comedy routine by Ron White. She said it was a springer spaniel, which is the breed of the dog that attacked Roscoe six years ago in the park next to our house.
So, Sunday night Comedy Central is playing a Ron White concert film and I flip past right as he's telling the end of his Tater Salad story. Today, I go to the taco place for lunch. The lady with the dog named Tater was ringing me up.
I said, "Hey, I thought about your dog last night. There was a Ron White concert film on TV."
She turned completely white and couldn't even talk to me. "Your dogs name is Tater Salad, right? You told me that. A springer spaniel."
I smiled, but I had crossed a line. She nodded, but didn't look up at me. She handed me my money and then went back into the kitchen. I think she thought I was some kind of stalker.
Nothing creepier than unintentional creepy. I don't think I'll eat there for a while.