Coronavirus Sent Me Back to Texas
Covid is shaping all of our lives: In my case, it means moving back home
My waitress was kind enough to pretend not to notice, but I’m sure she could see how red and watery my eyes were. and figure out what was going on. I pulled it together, though, and got my order together: a full-size order of the blue crab nachos and a jalapeño margarita.
I was sitting outside at the Cyclone Ayana’s location in Houston in the area now known as Midtown, which used to be known as just Fourth Ward before gentrification. I did not eat inside because I am no fan of tempting fate, much less during a plague. The State of Texas has allowed restaurants to operate at 75 percent capacity, but Texas was not going to hold my hand should I catch coronavirus and end up in the ICU, gasping for air.
I was already risking it ordering dairy, to be honest. But trust me, the nachos are worth it. It’s jumbo lump blue crab covered in melted cheese, black beans, chipotle-infused roasted corn over blue corn tortilla chips. You get sour cream, pico de gallo, jalapeños, and guacamole. And because it’s Texas, you immediately get offered a huge complimentary order of chips and salsa.
I just knew this was going to excite me, but there I was, teary-eyed and shit.
