So I have lunch at Taco Cabana in Fort Worth (Basswood and Beach, to be exact). I'm placing my order and some girl comes up from the kitchen area and says something to the manager/cashier who is taking my order.

"Are you OK?" the manager says.

"Yeah, I think so."

At this point, I take a look at the kitchen worker who is holding up her hand which, I am certain, had blood coming from one of her fingers.

Uggh. Just what I needed: Personal Skillet Chicken Fajitas with a side of The AID. Good times.