Who does that? I've been craving Mexican food for the past few weeks, specifically a chicken fajita quesadilla from the hole-in-the-wall place down the street where we used to go for pitcher margarita night every Wednesday. Yesterday was a horrendously crappy day at work so Charlie said we could go for Mexican to satisfy my need and hopefully cheer me up some. Unfortunately, the compromise (there's that "C word" again, darn it) was that we would eat at the place on the other side of town. The one that's "less scary," in Charlie's words. So we go and we order and I'm all excited about my dinner that had been running through my head for weeks, seriously. The waiter brings out the plate and I can't wait to take a bite. I put some sour cream on my fork, cut off a bite of quesadilla, place it in my mouth, and... WTF?!?! This doesn't taste quite right. Is that... is that swiss cheese? On my quesadilla? At an "authentic" Mexican restaurant? The excitement was over. I'll try again for my chicken fajita quesadilla another day, but it will be at the scary Mexican restaurant, where the Margaritas look like Ecto-Coolers. At least they know what kind of cheese they're supposed to use.
Editor's Note: When I say/type/write the word "quesadilla" I can't help but say it Kay-suh-dilla, a la Napoleon Dynamite's grandmother. Tina, eat. Eat the food.. EAT THE FOOD! Now that we've gotten on the subject of llamas, click here for some serious llama fun.
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