So I am standing with a friend next to a food truck parked near 1st and Washington.
We're waiting for our orders.
A young guy in a maroon sweatshirt and jeans approaches. The woman inside the truck sees him coming and makes a face. A disapproving face.
See continues looking at him and says, "You couldn't take a shower or something?"
Good grief, I think. Since when do you have to dress up to patronize a taco truck?
In Spokane, no less.
But the woman in the window of the truck explains. "He's my little brother. It's my job to give him a hard time."