When restaurants mess up orders and give you the right order as well as the one they got wrong. Today I went to Sancho’s for some $1.45 tacos. I ordered 2 Al Pastor, 2 Asada, 1 Lengua (cow tongue), and 1 Chicharron (pork skin). When they brought my 6 tacos to the table I asked which ones were which. The women explained that the left 4 were my asada and at that point I stopped listening because I was so distraught that my order was wrong. As soon as she was done speaking I let her know that I had ordered 2 asada and 2 al pastor, and almost immediately she said “oh, I’ll have those right out.” Satisfied, I looked down at my plate only to realize that I had no idea which one of the two tacos (that weren’t asada) were which. Which, ironically, were the only ones I actually cared to know as it was my first time having them. In what seemed like less than a minute the woman was back with my 2 al pastor tacos, she hastily puts them down and turns to walk away. In that moment I could have stopped and asked her to repeat which tacos were which again, but unfortunately my afraid-of-judgement brain didn’t want to look dumb or maybe it didn’t want to be a nuisance so I said “thank you, I appreciate it” and I began to dig into my now 8 tacos, 6 of which I paid for, and 2 of which were still a mystery to me.