Okay, Green Chile Kitchen? We're going to have a little chat, and I'm going to talk and you're going to listen, 'kay?
We've been going to and loving you for quite some time now. We are, quite possibly, your best customers. Hell, one of your checkout chicks commented to my husband, "You haven't been here in awhile!" (Quite true, we hadn't, but she noticed which was awesome!) Also, even if you don't have caller ID, there's no way you don't identify us as, "those weird people who order the same salad every time -- you know, the ones who always, always want their fifth ingredient to just be more [redacted]?"
You are a feast for us as much as you are a comfort. We revel in your fresh greens, we approve of your new and spicier guacamole, and we laud your Niman Ranchiness. (Sidetrack: Is it just me or is Niman Ranch sort of over? I mean, yes, it's undeniably good stuff, but I think the most sought-after meat names these days are not the ones that are known across the country. We're such spoiled Californians.)
So I say this with love: GET ANOTHER FREAKING REGISTER! Seriously? Waiting in line to pick up a take-out order behind all those baked witlings, who have wrapped themselves in blankets after spending the entire day in Alamo Square Park in order to smoke away every single synapse and then come to GCK, not knowing what the hell they want to order because they got distracted by a shiny object while standing in line and then try to inveigle your eminently patient checkout chicks in deep discussions about her back tattooes, all while my crispy tacos get so decidedly UNcrispy that they sog their bottoms out when I pick them up, well, there is a limit.