The Incredibly Futile Search For Mexican Food On A Monday Night

I got home from work around 9:15. Jameil was waiting for me, ready to go get some Mexican. We headed to El Toro by the Northlake Mall. We pulled up around 9:30, but there was no one in the parking lot. That’s always a bad sign. Jameil got out to see what time they closed. Although they closed at 10, they looked like they were already shutting it down. We pretty much knew we weren’t gonna get what we wanted. I drove down La Vista, to another Mexican restaurant that I had seen, but never went to. Same thing there. Closed at 10, but nobody was there. Wait staff cleaning up and we didn’t want to be the last and only people in the spot. Before we left Jameil had looked on the internet and found another restaurant, a little farther away, but open until 1. As we drove through the rain, I started to get hungry. We finally arrived at the spot and saw that it was not only a Mexican restaurant, but a billiards hall as well. That immediately aroused my suspicions, but Jameil being far more adventurous than I was still down. I watched as a couple of guys went in the spot. They didn’t look like Mexican gangsters, so I was okay…until Jameil saw the sign…

GUNS NOT ALLOWED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

Yeah, we both had to pass on that one. Any place that has to tell you not to bring a gun, obviously has had problems with people bringing guns. Next…

So, in the same shopping center, there was this large, brightly lit restaurant called Santo Domingo or something like that. It looked safe. So we walked inside. You ever seen those movies when someone walks in the room and all activity stops for a minute? Yeah, that’s how this spot was. There were only a few people in there, but it seemed like it got mad quiet and they were eyeing us like how dare you interlopers step in our restaurant. After a few seconds, they went back to their domino game, and a non English speaking waitress sat us down and gave us menus. First thing I noticed was that this wasn’t Mexican food, it was Dominican, which I also knew from my uncanny knack of being able to tell what kind of Hispanic someone is. (I also now realize that Santo Domingo is a city in DR, but I wasn't thinking at the time.) The menu was in Spanish and English, and I was ready to leave. With the people looking over at us, and the menu not having burritos, oh and the $7 Margarita made with margarita mix, I wasn’t feeling it. Then it got worse. The waitress came to take our order and Jameil was asking questions about the entrees. The waitress had no idea what Jameil was saying. “Un Poquito English” or something like that. Somehow we managed to get across to give us a minute.

At that point, I was like we shouldn’t eat here. But I figured that I would get something to go, just so the trip wouldn’t be a total waste (and so they didn’t give us the Dominican sideeye for leaving. LOL) I ordered a Cuban sandwich. Can’t go wrong with that, right? So, we sat in the booth and waited for the food to come. And waited.. And waited… And then waited some more. All the time we were getting funny glances from the bones (or whatever dominoes is called in Spanish) players. It was an absurd comedy of errors. While we were waiting, I remembered that I had limited cash on me and wondered if they took credit cards. Jameil was like “Is this really a place you want to use your card?” She was right. I could just see my card number being used to buy Reggaeton CDs and soccer tickets. Luckily, Jam has some cash on her. Finally after about 15 minutes, she finally comes out with my sandwich and we leave.

We were going to another joint in Midtown that I thought stayed open until 1, but we had to pass my crib to get there and we were just tired of this futile search for Mexican food. You know what we did? Stopped at Sonic. LOL Not exactly what we were looking for, but at least we got to go home. Oh yeah, that Cubano??? That joint was banging! At least something was good about the food search.