Since I don’t have a wife, kids or a girl that will sleep
with me for free, I do a lot of things on my own by default, but it can be
embarrassing at times. For example, I like going to the movie theatre but dread
going up to the ticket counter and buying one ticket to “Finding Nemo 3d” for a
45 year old freak in sneakers and baseball cap. In fact, I was paranoid the day
I went to see “Dark Knight Rising” because I would have fit the recently
famous, Colorado
terrorist M.O. perfectly if I was only wearing a fanny pack.
Anyways, I like to go out to restaurants a lot and shoot the
shit with servers while eating my meal at the bar. One of my favorite
restaurants is a Mexican chain called Don Ramos. If you ask me, all Mexican
restaurant’s food tastes the same and their establishments look the same so why
don’t they just all band together and form a Mexican franchise so they can pool
their revenues and not have to worry about trying to be different.
The servers at these places are by far, the friendliest
people I have ever met. You would think I was a high roller at the Horseshoe
the way they looked after my every need. They never say no to anything! I am
almost tempted to spring on the owner a classic Blues Brothers line, “How much
for your daughter?”
So I went to Don Ramos tonight and I was the only person in
the place because they were 30 minutes from closing. Nfl highlights were
playing on the big screen but everything was in Spanish. I noticed the music
was playing in Spanish and I wondered if my Shazam Iphone app would pick it up.
Sure as shit, it did!
The can of worms is now open!
Every time an employee walked by, I would make a comment
referencing the band as well as the song.
“Hey amigo, how do you like Grupo G? La Iconforme is an
awesome Tune!”
“How do you know Grupo G?”
“They rock! Can I have some more queso?”
Several minutes would go by and another server would walk
by.
“Hey amigo, Roberto Tapia for president! Mirando Al Cielo
makes my senorita’s heart melt”
As soon as I said that, this guy stopped dead in his tracks
and looked at me with a bug eyed, deer in the headlights expression. Partly
because he was surprised that, that shit came out of my mouth, and partly
because I chopped it up so bad.
I really sounded more like. “hey amiga dude, Roberti tapioca
for president! Miranda ill sello makes my sineridiots heart melt”
Ten minutes later, I walked up to the counter, paid my $6.00
tab and shouted out as loud as possible while pushing open the front door,
“Geraldo Ortiz is my
hero”
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