Happy Cinco De Mayo everyone!
Today's celebration reminds me of an experience I had with my Viking mom at a Mexican restaurant in Atlanta. This was several years ago, so the place may or may not still exist. It was called Jalisco, and was (like most places in Atlanta) ensconced in a strip mall. Worse, it was one of those strip malls where the architects try to fool you into thinking it's actually an "olde" Southern town square. You know what I mean? They slap up some fake gaslamps and a "quaint" clock and hope that people pull in and say,
"Well, isn't this just adorable Tom! A sweet little town square right here off of I-85. What a charming piece of Southern history. And there's a Lens Crafters too!"
Anyway, we were there, enjoying some burritos, when a couple sat down next to us. It was a small restaurant, so when I say next to us, I mean right next to us.
Now, I'd like to add that the food at Jalisco was good, but it was not a particularly attractive or interesting place. There were no flickering candles or delicate flowers or anything remotely romantic about this place. Plus, the smell of fresh tar from the parking lot would waft in every time the door opened.
So, this couple starts looking longingly into each other's eyes. This leads to massaging each other's hands. Then thigh squeezing commences. Then tongues start slurping. Sweet nothings are whispered. Hair is tossed seductively.
Finally my mom decides she's had enough. She bellows in that harsh Finnish accent of hers,
"Enough already! This isn't Casablanca. This is a shitty Mexican restaurant. Just eat your refried beans and go home."
2 comments:
My penis needs a much larger sombrero than that guy.
Your mom is awesome. I wish I had her balls. I hate PDA.
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