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“The equivalent of Ronald McDonald for Diego’s Mexican Delights,” she says. “They ran an ad online paying $1,000 for people to come to the festival as one of their characters. It’s some weird ad campaign, I guess. I’m dressed as Ava the Avocado.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Ava.”
The avocado shakes her head, or at least moves the outfit in a way that suggests she’s trying to do so. “Please, call me Nicole. The terms of the job said nothing about me having to roleplay as the fruit.”
“Avocados are fruits?”
“They have their seeds on the inside, so yes.”
Huh, I didn’t know that. “Well, I am not Tomas the Taco. I’m Nelson.”
“Nelson? That’s a familiar name.”
“More often a last name, but my mama gave it to me as a first. I’m not complaining, though.”
“There’s something special about you, Nelson,” the avocado known as Nicole says. “For a Tomas the Taco to show up here and he didn’t even answer the ad, that says something.”
“I guess I should see about getting paid, huh? So, what, in this restaurant’s lore are the taco and avocado an item?”
I hear her laugh muffled by the costume. “I think so, actually. There’s something in their other ad campaigns about avocados making tacos so much better than they already are. It’s technically about guacamole, but a green blob isn’t a very good mascot so Ava the Avocado was born.”
I chuckle beneath my costume. She’s pretty sharp, and pretty witty. I like her, even if I can’t see her face. “I could go for some tacos right now, honestly. Does Diego’s Mexican Delights have a truck around here?”
“Think all we got is a lot of apple-flavored stuff.”
“Kind of short-sighted of the restaurant, isn’t it? Paying mascots to show up here and not giving people a chance to try their food?”
I hear that delightful laugh of hers again. “Run it past Diego’s Mexican Delights when they come up here. They’re supposed to open up in the new year — I think that’s why they’re trying to drum up interest with the mascots.”
“I got doubts Burly can support two Mexican restaurants. But if they wanna dethrone Hector’s, I guess they have every right to try.”
“I just want to get paid. And I wanted to come here anyway, so as they say, two birds, one stone.”
“Even if you gotta walk around dressed as an out-of-season fruit?”
“Hey, no one can see me. They can’t trace this back to me.”
I look her up and down. Something’s special about her. “Well, if you’re going to be the guac to my taco, shall we head to the corn maze together?”
The avocado nods. “Sounds good to me.”
Our hands temporarily meet, before we separate again. Is she feeling the same way I am? We have no idea what one another looks like. I could make guesses based on what little I can see and her voice, but she could be old enough to be my mother and just have a great skin care routine and a youthful spirit to keep her voice young.
“What about you, then? Why are you a taco?”
“Lost a bet. I just wanted to come here to chill too, but my brother thought it’d be funny if my punishment for losing was dressing as a taco.”
“Why a taco?”
“I asked him and all he said was, ‘why not a taco?’ I told him that doesn’t answer anything but he just reminded me he got to decide and I should just shut up and wear the costume.”
“Well, guess it worked out and you found your guac. Can’t complain too much, can you?”
I nod. We pass the barn. The ball is in full swing, music blaring, lots of people dancing. It looks like a lot of fun.
But the awkwardness of our costumes would prevent the two of us from dancing. And really? I don’t want to spend time with anyone else. I want to get to know Nicole a lot better. And maybe peel that avocado and see what’s inside.
“Maze?” I suggest, pointing at the entrance.
