Ohhhhhhhhhhhh I just have to tell you, Wayne and I got so excited the other night. Wait; wait; wait. And just what did you think I’m talking about anyway? We decided to go out to a Mexican restaurant. We got the hungrys for something hot and exciting like I was saying and had our taste buds all set to get our supper at Bandito’s Restaurant on Winchester Road. Maybe we should have waited ‘cause I heard we would only have to pay for one meal if one of us had a birthday, but then I don’t think Wayne could have waited that long, the hungry little dear.
We got a lovely table in a lovely spot in a dark corner where no one could see Wayne loosen his belt, undo his suspenders, and unzip his trousers so that he could have room for food expansion. I left my girdle at home this time. We were prepared to eat our way through the menu but we didn’t allow for the chip and dip course.
The waitress was such a lovely person and pretended not to notice Wayne’s antics throughout the evening. In doing so she got herself a lovely tip; thank you dear; you earned it even though Wayne wanted to leave enough to pay your rent but I made him hold the tip and final bill down to just less than our social security payment. Just kidding; I’m not sure what it cost for that evening; I’m still trying to figure it out in our checkbook, Wayne has it all screwed up again.
Anyway Cecili, I think that was her name, took our order and left. We had before us, a large bowl of warm tortilla chips, a bowl of bean/cheese tip, and two bowls of super delicious salsa as appetizers. We no sooner had our bowls of salsa emptied and our chips gone when Cecili brought us more. We dipped and crunched our way through most of the food she left before she brought our other food out that we ordered off the menu.
Deed I thought we were going to bust a gut when we saw the huge plates of food she brought us. We ordered a taco salad each and they came in these lovely large edible crispy, crunchy hat-like bowls, which we ate along with the taco salad. I can’t even describe the taco salad. They weren’t quite like most any other taco salads you order in any other Mexican restaurant but it was sooooooooooooo good this old mind just won’t give me the words I need to describe it. You just have to go there and order one.
Wayne finished his before me, which is not usual but I didn’t realize that he had spilled some of it on his lap and in his open fly. He didn’t tell me and tried to keep it hidden so I wouldn’t scold him like I usually do when he pulls some of his shenanigans.
Anyway, Wayne finished off his dinner and polished off his chips, and his salsa, and the bean dip, and he wanted to ask for more. I told him to order water, and drink that, and maybe the chips would soak it up and fill him up before he ordered tacos or burritos or a chimichanga or something else, which would throw us over our modest budget. I know that sweet Alex Cornwell, our boss from THE WAYNEDALE NEWS, wouldn’t want us to go over the amount that he sets aside for us to go out on these eating safaris to write about them.
We threw caution to the wind and ordered one serving of fried ice cream with two spoons. It was delicious. It was sort of like baked Alaska without the flames but with a crunchy coco-nutty taste. You’ll just have to go there and order one. I think I’ll have Wayne take me there the next time I get an ice cream craving instead of going to the Dairy Bar. At least Bandito’s fried ice cream won’t give me a brain freeze and I think I can order one without loosening my girdle.
After straightened up our clothes and adjusting for the expansion, we got ready to leave and I noticed that Wayne had zipped up his fly and had a paper napkin stuck in the zipper. I was reaching over and pulling the napkin out when Cecili brought out our bill. She just rolled her eyes back in her head and pretended not to notice, the sweet thing. I did get most of it unloosened. He hunkered down and pulled his sweater down to his knees to cover his fly. He looked like a little fat midget with a posture problem.
We went to pay our bill and I noticed Wayne was leaving a trail of salsa and lettuce pieces along with some chip crumbs from his pant leg all the way through the room and up to the cashier. Luckily there wasn’t anyone leaving or coming in at that time so we hurriedly paid and left. The rest was strewn on the parking lot and in the car.
Ladies, I want to tell you now that if you want to get salsa stains out of your husbands underwear, use Clorox in a mild solution not full strength and don’t use it if his underwear is colored or has a pattern; otherwise it will eat into the cloth, leave it full of holes big enough to drop a roll of quarters through, [wink wink], and it will make it all splotchy and uneven [his underwear].
Until next time
“Wayne says, “. . . Buenos tacos y mucho ajo everyone.” Wayne, git your hand off my leg!