Rumor has it that the Health Inspector was buried in the adjacent woods.

Rumor has it that the Health Inspector was buried in the adjacent woods.

It’s a funny situation to be in, really.

See, I’ve already admitted that I’m on this charmed press-junket where nervous publicists find every possible problem you could have and solve it before it even presents itself.

Which means nice hotels. Very nice hotels. I mean, it is Maui.

So, when I approach the concierge and inquire to where I should eat, it should come as no surprise she a) talks about the wonderful things they’re doing in the kitchen that just so happens to belong to the hotel and b) starts throwing 5-star names at me.

I understand. I’m staying in a very nice hotel and now you want to send me to a very nice establishment to dine.

In no way would you send me somewhere that did not meet the health code.

So I tried to explain and finally realized that it’s all in the wording.

It will no longer be ‘where should I eat?’, but ‘where do you eat?’.

A-ha.

Pulling me aside and in a tone reserved for a 1940 speakeasy, mumbled something about a truck that sells fish tacos.

I like fish tacos.

Where could I find these fish tacos?

‘I don’t know’.

That’s mean.

‘No, I mean – the guy is always moving up and down this street’ she said, pulling out a map that tried to suggest other ‘innovative’ restaurants.

I grabbed the map and drove up the street indicated and found him.

And had his fish tacos.

And am being dead serious that although we don’t know each other, I have no problems with selling you and using the cash to buy more.

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