Although chili con carne tends to disagree with me, we do on occasion come to a mutual meeting of the minds, or the stomach, as the case may be. I pull up to the Wendy’s Drive Thru to once again argue with my stomach. Normally one is first greeted and then prodded to try the latest menu offerings, but surprisingly, I am only asked what I would like to order. “A large bowl of chili please,” I say to the voice behind the speaker “With onions, cheese, and sour cream”? “Yes please — that’s the best way to eat chili, I respond. “$2.99 at the window please”, says the voice behind the speaker. “Oh, and some ice water too”, I add. I loosen my seat belt and dig through my left pocket, which is kind enough to dispense three crisp dollar bills. I pull up to the window and the girl with the headset gives me a cup of ice water and a straw. With patient anticipation, I wait for the second part of the order. After a few minutes, she hands me a bag with what I presume is the chili inside and says: “aquí está”. Her supervisor who is standing behind her smiles at me and asks: “speak Spanish”? The girl is a little befuddled, as she realizes she has spoken in Spanish to me. I just laugh and the supervisor’s smile grows bigger. “Poquito”, I exaggerate, as the chili and I happily head home together.