Get Lost Crazy Purple Pants!!

Before I had my gallbladder surgery, B and I decided to head over to our new restaurant find, this small Mexican dive a couple blocks away. Like most of my friends, we love to find some good authentic yummy Mexican food. Before this find, we would have had to travel miles downtown or miles uptown to get something great. No more. The Mexican place, combined with the Thai place we found, is quickly making this neighborhood the BEST PLACE TO LIVE EVER. Now if we could only find a quality Chinese place...

I digress.

So we headed to the restaurant about an hour before they were going to close and much to my delight, the place was deserted. So I dreamt of chips and salsa and peace and quiet. The waitress, the same waitress as always, brought us HOT chips and noted to the bus boy that she was going to break down in tears any minute while watching the latest Extreme Makeover. All was good.

And in came purple pants.

Purple pants thought he was something else. Obviously from the snootier* side of town, I imagine he considered his travels into this place "slumming." The waitress told him and his wife/girlfriend to sit anywhere they wanted. So they sat in the booth immediately behind us.

Of course they did.

And then the crazy ensued:

CPP to lady friend: Do you think they have a liquor license?

CPP to bus boy: Do you have a liquor license?

Bus boy: No.

CPP: OHHHH NOOOO....we just came here for margaritas and chips.

Bus boy: Well, I can get you the chips.

CPP: No. I really want a margarita.

CPP: We already ate. I just want a margarita.

[pause]

CPP: Do you have a take out menu?

Waitress: It is the same as the real menu

CPP: I cannot believe you don't have margaritas. We were driving by and saw the sign and thought "let's get a margarita."

(Note: Saying it/requesting it/demanding it will not make the liquor license they do NOT have suddenly go into effect)

CPP: Okay, well I guess we will come back when we are less....thirsty.

Exit crazy purple pants and his girl stage center.

I have never been so happy that a place could not sell liquor in my life because if I had to listen to that man drone/bray in my ear for five minutes longer, I was going to need a margarita.

Oh, and B says he was wearing a denim jacket too.

Perfect.

*Is snootier a word? If not, it should be.