We drove in comfortable silence until we arrived at Giovanni’s Shrimp Truck. It was parked in the middle of what looked like the front yard of somebody’s home and was surrounded by several plumeria trees. The shock of it being an actual automobile, and the instantaneous doubt of the quality of food they served, diminished when I saw the number of people waiting in line. The ones that weren’t in line were signing their names all over the truck.

How exciting!

What surprised me even more was that the crowds gathered there to eat weren’t just tourists; there were tons of locals.

“Have you eaten here before?” I asked as we walked toward the truck.

“All the time. It’s delicious, but I must warn you, it’s not conducive for kissing.” Christian laughed and gestured toward the picnic tables. It was a good look on him. “Go find us a seat, and I’ll get the food.”

I found one of the only empty tables under the shade of a beautiful plumeria tree and watched as Christian made his way through the line to order our food. Stuffing our soda cans into the front pockets of his shorts, he carried our plates of food over to the table. The scent of garlic wafted through the air when he placed everything on the table. It smelled so good.

“Thank you,” I said with a big smile.
“You’re welcome.”
My plate was filled with a mound of rice covered in shrimp, and all of it smothered in garlic

sauce. Christian brought a few extra paper plates to house the shrimp shells as we removed them. It was a messy affair, but one that proved to be worth it. The food was delicious. I moaned in delight as the buttery garlic touched my tongue, and I licked my fingers without shame.

“Oh, my god, this is so good!” I exclaimed, humming in delight.

Christian shook his head with a slight chuckle, but he seemed to enjoy it just as much as me.

“We are going to stink after this,” I snickered with a finger in my mouth.