Tonight, I walked to my friendly neighborhood mercado. They have a fabulous deli/lunch counter. And tortilla chips to die for. Matt swears by their carne asada burritos. Says they're better than Hilberto's. That's pretty incredible. So, when I got home from work and Matt was starving, I headed over there.
I decided it was a pollo night. So I attempted to order two ("dos," I know) pollo asado burritos. And I was utterly unable to convey that to the woman working the counter. She had to get, no kidding, help from about 5 other people. My Nebraska-style pronunciations just aren't cuttin' it.
I felt ashamed. I am totally unable to do really basic things. I gotta learn Spanish.