Saturday, April 10, 2010

Chimichognas...or whatever

My nutrition teacher who goes on and on about eating healthy just unwrapped a breakfast sandwich from taco bell and started eating it. From Taco Bell of all places...they don’t even advertise breakfast at taco bell, do they? I mean, there’s Tim Horton’s or McDonalds or wild life in the street you could eat instead of TACO bell. Why TACO BELL and WHY for BREAKFAST of all meals!
Wait, wait, let me start again because it’s not fair I take out last night’s anger out on Taco Bell. You see, yesterday my cousin Michaels birthday so his girlfriend decided to throw him a surprise dinner at "chimichongas" which oddly enough ISNT a sushi place but is instead a Mexican restaurant and tequila bar. The cluttered environment and annoying salsa music was quick to aggravate my blood. I guess being plunged into this "delightful" culture was too much for my weak heart, for it stopped within the first four minutes and I had to be carried out of the resteraunt to try again.
Let me rewind a bit. I don’t HATE Mexican people by any means, I love western movies and chihuahuas; I just can’t handle the culture. I get anxious. It’s like putting a tiger in a fun house; you can’t be mad when I start biting people.
Anyways, as I walked in to the fiesta, for the second time, I swore to myself that if I saw a SINGLE sombrero, I was leaving. As my luck would have it, there WAS a guy wearing a sombrero, but he was selling oranges so I figured he was legit and let him go. I made my way to the table and took my seat.
Have you ever sat in a chair that you could have SWORN was tilted downwards? The way my seat was built was in such a way where if I relaxed the slightest bit, my underwear would ride up to my nipples. It was like something out of a Mexican SAW movie. This isn’t the worst part however. My seat was right directly in the middle of everyone else’s seat, against the wall, cut off by all the tables. What this meant was that if I wanted to go to the bathroom, I would have to pick the side of the table whose friendship I value least and ask them all to get up and shimmy down so that I could get out.
Then came the menus and for what I assume was an attempt at authenticity, they were in Mexican-SPANISH! WHATEVER THEYRE THE SAME THING! I wasn’t sure what I wanted but considering that all Mexican foods are made up of beans, rice, and cheese I just chose the closest thing to what Johnny Depp got in "once upon a time in Mexico". (Slow roasted pork with tequila and lime for those of you who are curious)
Anyways, after finishing dinner and a few Mexican beers, "Sol"? I walked in to the kitchen, killed the head chef, and went home.

Happy Birthday Micheal

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