Margarita Monday Mayhem

A couple of people have asked me whether Margarita Mondays is still in action. While it's true I haven't posted about it as much lately, it's still a very important social event in my life. We have a more mature crowd now -- given that this week we discussed the intricacies of having sex in outer space, I really mean mature in terms of our ages only. Allow me to share a few anecdotes:

1. For as long as we've been margaritaing, there has been a large puddle that forms next to our table outside presumably because of the sprinkler. It's always been there, and while it can be dangerous (I know I'm not the only one to have drunkenly slipped in that stagnant water), it's become a permanent fixture. Recently, our waiter noticed the puddle, acted embarrassed, and said he would immediately get a mop to clean it up. We couldn't contain our laughter. After two and a half years, they finally wanted to take care of it? I insisted that he didn't, for tradition's sake. Besides, not many seats in the place afforded such a nice view of the water. Essentially, we have waterfront property, and we're not willing to give it up.

2. Rather than drinking responsibly so that I can drive, I've taken to riding my bike to MM every week now. This has worked out fine until this past week when, on my ride home, I got cold and went to pull my sweatshirt's hood up onto my head. Unfortunately, I pulled the hood a little too hard, right over my eyes in fact, thus blinding myself and causing me to crash into a bush and fall off the bike. Classy, but precisely the reason I ride on the road on the way there and on the sidewalk on the way back.

3. There's a new mascot at Margarita Mondays: an opossum. We saw it dart into the courtyard before realizing it positioned itself near people. In its frightened state, the opossum made a mad dash for it but was unable to find its way back out. We thought we could scare it back in the right direction, but it reacted to us by playing dead. Not wanting to scare it any more, we retreated and hoped that if we kept our distance for a while it would gather the courage to run for an exit again. Unfortunately, it didn't move. When the waitress came to clear our table at the end of the night, I mentioned to her that there was an opossum in the corner so that she wouldn't accidentally happen upon it and be scared. Alas, the mere mention of an opossum caused her to scream and run inside the building. I felt bad for scaring her, as that was not my intention, so we tried to make up for it by bussing our own table and bringing all of our own dishes inside. It was not just a nice gesture, I wanted to ensure that she didn't ask a manager to come outside and kill it -- for real. I don't think they're the kind of place to secretly serve opossum taquitos, but you can never be too careful. We're not sure what happened with the opossum, as it hadn't quit playing dead by the time we left, but we can confirm it had moved by the next week. Come back, opossum, we love you!