Wednesday night is quickly becoming Girls’ Night Out. So, following precedent, we ate at Fajitas & ’Ritas last night which features an extensive tequila menu, pitchers of flavored margaritas, and a table that you can write on. All speak in favor of the restaurant, but to be honest, I prefer Chili’s food and presentation. My quesadillas came to the table slapped on a plate with a pathetic lettuce leaf holding my guac and sour cream. And as Master Debater pointed out, the salsa was of the “gallon” variety [*New Character Alert* Master Debater is Face’s boyfriend. He’s very nice and tall, but made the fatal error of making fun of me for having been in the high school marching band after telling me he was on the debate team. Let this be a lesson to all those out there that they should be nice to me lest I give them mean pseudonyms]. But at under $10 an entrée, who’s really going to complain?
3 pitchers of frozen margaritas later, we decided to nix the idea of putting me on the (very reasonable) 8:10 train home and go to a dive bar instead. Face led us around the corner to what she claimed was one of her favorite pubs in Boston. Behold, The Tam, where we immediately found seats, Grasshoppah attacked the juke box, and there was much merriment all around.
So, the drinks. Let’s get something straight if it isn’t already. I am a rumndietcoke connoisseur. If there’s anything that I know inside and out, it’s rumndietcokes. As such, I’ve generated a general scale to assess the quality/quantity of my drinks:
Fuckin’ Dixie Cup: An overpriced tiny cup of diet coke with a splash of rum; available at my least favorite bar in Boston, The Liquor Store.
Meh, Tumbler: A decent size drink for the price but nothing to really write home about; probably the most common variety.
Eyebrow-Flick Tumbler: A “Meh, Tumbler” that has been vastly improved by a nice bartender who is a little more generous with the liquor; available at our usual hangout, The Cellar, in Cambridge.
Big Girl Drink: A glorious pintful of deliciousness; first found at the greatest bar in America, The Spoke, of Amherst, MA; also available upon request at many other fine dives.
The Lethal: A medium size glass filled 3/4 of the way with rum and topped off with Diet Coke; the exact opposite of a Fuckin’ Dixie Cup; first experienced at The Tam which has already won a place in my heart.
I had 2 lethals last night and I’m paying the price via my brain. I also paid the price via my wallet after the girls dropped me off at South Station to catch the 10:10 train home… which turned out to be the 10:30 train home… and at 9:40 I was too drunkenly impatient to wait that long so I hit the ATM and headed for the taxi queue only to be waylaid by a polite limo driver who offered me a ride home for a flat rate (which exceeded my usual fare by about $15). And you know how I like to ride in style when I’m tanked. So I said yes… with my lunch money. I’ll be stuck eating a homemade wrap today but I’ll still have the memory of my drunken bottom being carted home on a leather seat last night instead of in the back of a smelly cab. And no one can take that away from me.
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