I told her we could go any place she wanted, and she wanted to try Abuello's Mexican Embassy restaurant.
 It was more crowded that a nigger beatdown at a GOP fundraiser.

 We walked in and they told us it would be a forty minute wait.
 (They don't do call aheads or reservations)
 First thing I noticed is that they had a ceiling like at Ceasars Palace.
 It looks like clouds, blue and white with indirect lighting.
 Maybe the K-Draggers think they're really outside-hard to tell.

 So, with a forty-minute wait, I figured this might be a great place to try some tequila.
 Same old crap, but at least they had Chinaco Anejo and about 12 other brands.
 Just for grins, I got a shot of Chinaco and a shot of Don Julio Anejo.

 I told the Cubbette "No lime, no salt."
 She looks at me and says, "You mean you want a straight shot of tequila?"
 Koresh, give me strength.

"No, I want two straight shots of tequila."

 She tells me that's not legal in Oklahoma.

 <big sigh...>

 Over the years, I learned not to argue with them.
 I've owned two bars in Jokelahoma, I know the goddamn law, but what are you gonna do?
 She said they could put one shot in front of me, and the other shot inside the bar step,
 which I could reach so I decided to play it their stupid way - to ease the tension for Mrs. BartCop.

 She served me the two shots and Lorena got a Margarita swirl.
 Well, they managed to even screw that up.

 The Chinaco tasted funny and the Don Julio, while smooth, was tasteless.
 I'll tell you what they did - they left the top off the Chinaco.
 Air is the enemy of fine tequila.

 Sometimes, after a night of hard partying, I'll come in the next day and see a half shot
 of Chinaco left in a shotglass and swoop it down, but after being exposed to the air overnight,
 the flavor is gone and it taste like some lame-ass silver tequila.

 So, I'm sipping on one shot, then I'd take that glass and put it in the bar step
 and grab the other shot to take a tiny sip of it, trying to decide which was worse.
 All this time, two Cubbettes were watching me like hungry velociraptors.

 Then, (this happens more and more lately) Cubbette and an assistant Cubbette and Cubby
 all came over and asked me to explain fine tequila to them.    I did.
 I explained how there are no worms in tequila, that you don't chug it, that you don't consider
 Cuervo to be tequila, and I explained about the pears, apples, chocolate and wildflowers.

 When I finished, they said, "We don't get many like you in here."
 That earned them a tip.

 After a while our table-is-ready buzzer went off, and they stood there and watched me kill
 the remainder of each shot, after I just explained to them that the proper way is to sip s-l-o-w-l-y.
 No way I was going to walk thru a very crowded restaurant with two shots of tequila.

 So we get a nice table and I opened the menu.
 First thing I saw was "Reynosa Salad."

 I said, "Hey, I've been in jail in Reynosa," perhaps a bit too loud.
 That got me the heel of her shoe on my toe.   Damn, that hurt.

 The salsa was good, that's always the first sign.
 If the salsa blows, the meal probably will, too.

 Since it was a special occasion, we split a bucket of cheese (they dolled it up with some
 fancy-ass name and put "Queso" after it, but it was canned cheese from a bigger bucket.
 We also shared a bowl of  Cilantro Lime soup, which was chicken soup with a lime wedge.

 Mrs. BartCop was ready for a second drink, so our new Cubbette asked her if she wanted
 a sangria swirl or a margarita swirl.

 Duh!

 A swirl is a margarita with sangria swirled in it.

 I set Cubbette straight and she wasn't to happy about it.
 Koresh, I hate a waitress that thinks she's onstage.
 She doing the whoooole production bit.
 There was more drama than a hospital scene in a Mexican soap opera.

 All the cutesy horseshit - but I'm just not interested.
 Do your goddamn job and be invisible except when I need you.

  Sidebar:
 I've mentioned this mefore, but here in K-Drag they have Casa Bonita, which serves food almost
 as bad as Garduno's, but they have flags on every table and when you want a waiter, you raise the flag.

 That's perfect!

 Stay away from me unless you see that flag up, Cubby!

 When it came time to order, I thought I'd pull a trick I learned from Scary Perry.
 I asked the waitress what she thought was the best thing on the menu.
 She said, "I don't like Mexican food, so I get the lamb."

 Grrrrrrrrr....

 She was really working my last nerve.

 So I settled for the usual, two shredded beef enchiladas and a ground beef enchilada.
 She got the sampler or something.  So the food finally comes on plates the size of a Excursion steering wheel,
 but the portions looked like children's portions. It was like a tablespoon of rice and a table spoon of refried beans,
 with a half-plate full of green and orange garnish.  Hey, I want some food here!

 But the really bad news came when I tried the enchiladas.
 The ground beef enchilada tasted like Manwich.
 I couldn't even finish it, it tasted so bad.
 Then I tried the "shredded" enchilada and found nothing but chunks.

 I summoned my Cubbette to register my approval.
 Swear to Koresh, this is how it went.

 Me: My shredded beef isn't shredded

 Her: What do you mean, it's not shredded?

 Me:

 I looked at her and didn't say a word.
 Finally, she re-ran her question back in her mind and realized how stupid it sounded.

 Me: I asked for shredded beef, and I got these tasteless cunks, instead.

 Her: I guess that's the way they do things here.

 Me: So why put shredded beef on the menu if it comes in chunks?

 (Here comes the swear to Koresh part)

 Her: I guess it just depends on which cut of the cow they used.

 Sensing an opportunity to get even, I said,

 Me: But I ordered the shredded part of the cow.

 That got me another heel on the toe, right in the same sore spot.
 I think Mrs. BartCop could kick field goals for Buffalo.

  Sidebar:
 What really kills me about getting horrid food is the cost of this building.
 It's on the corner of the most expensive property in K-Drag (71 St & Highway 169)
 and somebody paid millions just for the land. The building is done up like an embassy
 with a wall around the building and statues and stuff - and then they serve crap food.

 Only in Jokelahoma could you build a multi-million dollar restaurant and serve crappy food
 and have them line up around the block for a chance to get in and try the overpriced swill.

 Trying to get back in her good graces (not Cubbettes) I asked Mrs. BC how her food was.
 She said it was OK, but they forgot the onions in her cheese enchilada.
 Oh, she looooves the onions in her cheese enchiladas.
 They forgot the onions and now she was on my side.

 So if you make it to K-Drag, forget the Mexican Embassy.