Recently we went to a 19th Bday lunch for my grandson.
In our fam it is customary for the Bday boy/girl to choose any restaurant they would like to go to.
He chose a cuban restaurant.
We had never been there so did not know what to expect. It was a small place. I did not count the tables but I guess there were 10 4 tops and saw 2 small round tables.
Our group of usual suspects took up the 5 tables in the back.
We arrived on time and were the first to enter. Told the woman at the register we were there for a Bday party and she pointed to the back section. A few min later momma comes in with Bday balloons and asked if we had seen the Bday boy. "No we were the first here". Momma says "well he did not come home last night". OH my, this was starting with a bang.
One thing you can count on in our fam is that there will always be "a turd in the punch bowl".
After about 45 min of guests filtering in, the Bday boy showed up. Kisses and hugs went all around as normal and now it's time to order.
"I think you need to order at the register". 15 fuckers sitting around and who knows how many tickets that would entail, this was not going to be easy. I still don't know what normal service is there but after a few min of momma trying to organize, I have left out 20 min of fuckery here, someone came to take our orders.
It didn't take long to understand that the only person that was going to speak english to us was the manager. Drink orders first, a word of advice DON'T order outside of the drink menu as it's not worth the headache to explain. After the drinks were served, which were not the drinks we ordered, meal orders were taken. A reasonable time passes and the different orders started coming out. 1st orders taken came out last.
During the melee an additional guest arrived. "K" is a jovial, brutally honest, no filter kind of woman whom I've know more than 20 years. K is an alcoholic and never passes up a chance to party or drown her sorrows. In true form K was half lit and ordering more as soon as she sat down.
Lunch was served. When you don't know what to order usualy the beef is a decent choice.
Vaca Frita
The taste was not horrible but it made me think my plate was full of beef jerky.
The side of beans and rice was as dry as a popcorn fart and the yuca, which I had no prior experience with, looked like a dish of goo and had no taste to speak of.
I had only taken 1 bite when K decided to sample everyone else's entree. After forking my frita she says "Can I have a taste" I was instantly incensed and a flash of unreasonable responses flowed through my mind. In mid rape of my meal K asked "you don't mind do you?" Aside from the rage I was feeling I chose to be calm and honest and told her "actually I do". Not missing a beat she gobbled the fork full she had pilfered and moved on to other unsuspecting dupes. K had never portrayed this behavior before and I am now considering NOT being around her when food is involved. Asking for a taste of my drink is not so bad. Ask for a taste of my meal and I will say
NO!. That's why there is a menu. Order what you want and I'll order what I want.
After eating a icecream cake was served, I omit the fuckery of this ordeal to spare you, the reader, the agony of how simply serving a icecream cake can be so agonisingly painful.
Once the Bday folies were over it was time to settle the bill. No ticket was presented. Now it is time to go stand in line at the register to pay and you have to recite what it is you ordered.
Too bad it was not pay for what was enjoyed.
We did pay for what we ordered.
But wait the fuckery does not end there.
"where are the keys to the car" "I don't know you drove" "Go inside and see if they are on the table"
"NO" ask son to go back to find keys. Younger grandson asks "where is my dad" "OH here they are"
"Go in and tell your dad I found the keys" They were in her purse all along.
What a cluster fuck.
