So, it was not our best night at the local cantina Mexicana. Allow me to set the stage. We eat there twice a week....at least twice a week. Waiters, hostesses, owner, probably dishwasher know us by name. Kate actually grabs the marker from the hostess and ceremoniously circles her own table and waiter selection as we arrive in the tiny lobby. Of course, Kate probably earned the privilege as she has done everything from 'shadowing' there for a school assignment to, on a recent visit, teaching the owner 'The Wobble.' That wasn't pretty, but she definitely is doing her part to share a touch of Americana with this Mexican contingent. Perhaps a career in the UN is in her future. But back to the blog......
Last night happened to be one of our bi-weekly Mexican dinner nights. We had a delicious meal, including our new favorite guacamole prepared tableside. All had gone well. Adrian had even asked if they would be willing to sell their mucho good margarita mixer to go, and they graciously complied. I think as much as we are there if we had asked to be given the youngest child of the owner, the affable Fernando would have graciously complied.
As we rose to leave our favorite table and our favorite waiter, Adrian with jug in hand, and indeed it was a large jug of mixer....Fernando said it would make 125 margaritas....of course we saw not just one but several parishioners of our church. May I say as a child of a Baptist upbringing, some days it can be a benefit to be Methodist.....
One friend, enjoying the Mexican cuisine minus the margaritas, looked over at the jug somewhat disapprovingly, or perhaps jealously, and coyly remarked that the party must be at our house. Then, as she glanced at me, she commented...."Looks like maybe the party has already started!" Puzzled, I followed her gaze and glanced downward only to see that both of the meager two hooks and eyes on my new shirt had somehow become disconnected. My lovely new summer blouse was entirely, and I do mean entirely open.
Our friend gamely commented, "I guess your dinner was free tonight." Trying to make the best of an increasingly bad situation, I verbally responded, "Actually, since my shirt came undone, we had to pay double," while internally questioning por que' I seem to be experiencing so many wardrobe issues of late.
Why do nights like this and wardrobe malfunctions like this and other embarrassments like these always happen at places you frequent and never in those spots whose doors you will never darken again? I noticed in entertainment news recently that Madonna had flashed both her upper and lower endowments during concert appearances. I had wondered upon reading the story why a fifty something singer would feel a need to do this. I stopped myself to consider if I tonight, in one of my twice weekly cantina appearances, was just as bad. With my sometimes ADD thought processes, my mind flashed.... so to speak... to the country song, "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off." Scary, isn't it, how true to life country music can be?
Well, the blouse is off to the tailor for more, many more snaps. Adrian is planning a margarita party, and I am sure next week will bring our usual two visits to Mariachis. I can't wait!
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