"Taco Smell" OR "Why Reeka?"

It's the halfway point in my drive and I find myself at the Yreka Taco Bell. I was here in December and there was a rank sewage smell (as opposed to pleasant sewage smells, I suppose) to the property. Fortunately, today seems odorless. As I walk inside, I watch as Holly, customer service rep extraordinaire, deals with a woman (I shall call her Dido) who lacks proper communication skills.

Dido: [points at a menu photo that has two items] I'll have one of those.

Holly: [obviously hating her job] Which one? There are two things there.

Dido: [points again] That one.

Meanwhile, an off-duty staff member walks in and tries to hand ten dollars over the counter to the manager. He rejects the offer.

Juturna: You earned it. You were right the other night. I ended up in jail.

Latinus: Seriously? Everything all right?

Juturna: I'm okay, but they got me for DUI.

Evander: All right! [high-fives Juturna across the counter] First one?

[Juturna walks away, but lifts two fingers in the air]

Evander: Psssshhhttt, that's nothing. [Lifts three fingers in the air]

[The three exit for a smoke break]

Is this life in Yreka? Is a person's coolness factor determined by the number of intoxicated driving sessions during which one gets caught?
No thanks.