402 Perkins Ext.
After our inaugural swim at the JCC Water World, we found ourselves absolutely starved and in need of food. FAST. The monkeys (Satchel, 5, and Jiro, 3) were busy eating string cheese and apples in the backseat as Warren and I debated where to go. I wasn’t really in the mood for Mexican, but Warren was behind the wheel. Normally, we are El Porton people, but once accepting that I wasn’t going to convince everyone to go to Mosa or Mister B’s, I mentioned that El Mezcal was close by. Dangerously close to becoming Bitch Mother, I just wanted to eat.
As we walked in we were immediately bombarded with a mini game room/waiting area filled with candy dispensers. Surprisingly, the monkeys actually paid them little attention, a true testament to their level of hunger. The hostess whisked us away to what appeared to be the “kids’ room” since every single table had families with small children.
On the way to our table I spotted a ten top full of derby girls and another full of people we knew from the boys’ first daycare provider. I looked over my shoulder and saw a girl I knew from high school and before we left a co-worker of mine was seated next to us with his family. I was half expecting Stacy & Clinton to come running up with a $5000 Visa card with my name on it.
We were immediately given chips & salsa and the water & cheese dip came soon after. We were literally inhaling it we were so hungry. “I thought you weren’t in the mood for Mexican,” Warren said smugly.
“Shuddup,” I said with a mouthful of chips.
Once I had a thin lining of cheese dip in my stomach, I tackled the menu. Being so hungry, everything sounded good and I was having a hard time making up my mind. Satchel put in his request for chicken nuggets and fries and Jiro requested a ‘rito (which translates to a cheese quesadilla). Warren went with his usual plate of meat—beef this time, I think—with beans & rice on the side. As Warren, the waiter, and the monkeys stared at me, I quickly ordered something involving chicken, deep frying, and smothering with nacho cheese.
We continued snarfing down chips and dip without incident until our food arrived. Then we started snarfing that down. I made a mental note to take the monkeys swimming before dinner more often. Dinner at the Exotic Indo-Pak buffet.
I was about half-way done with my meal when Satchel informed me that he—you guessed it—needed to poop. I ignored him for a second to see if Warren might offer to take him since he was sitting next to him. In my mind, I was in charge of Jiro and he was in charge of Satchel. However, he just kept eating.
So off we went. We didn’t get far before Jiro came running after us exclaiming, “I need to poop too.”
As we walked to the back I looked around the restaurant and realized that the whole place, minus the derby girl ten top, could easily be considered “the kids room.” I assumed that the lack of patio made it less appealing to the margarita/liquid dinner crowd and thus more appealing to families. Too bad the owners didn’t take notice and spruce up the bathroom a bit. It was a dingy/cramped three-seater with no changing table or step stool or foamy soap. Thankfully we had it all to ourselves so that Satchel, the slowest pooper on earth, could carry on his potty talk without drawing looks from any innocent bystanders. I’ll spare you the details of our conversation, but to give you a taste, our visit ended with Satchel’s (very loud) lament that he never gets to see Jiro’s poop.
Back at the table it looked like Warren hadn’t eaten anything since we left. Surely he wasn’t waiting for us. “Didn’t you eat anything while we were gone?” I asked.
“I had some chips,” he said. “I’m saving the rest for lunch.”
How nice, I thought as I erased the last ten minutes from my mind and went back to snarfing down my dinner.
Jiro was pretty much done by this point and getting mildly squirmy. Satchel sidled over to Warren’s plate and began sneaking bites of leftover meat. Then Satchel started making his way around the table towards me. I hate for him to leave his seat at all as it is immediately registered as an invitation to join him by Jiro.
“Get. Back. In. Your. Seat.” I said sternly, hoping to avoid a full rebellion.
“I just want to give you a hug,” Satchel said quickly, trying to cover his ass.
“Okay,” I said, “but then sit back down.”
Jiro leaned over from his seat and gave me a little hug too.
Keep your hands away from her mouth I could hear Warren thinking.
“You guys can’t fool me,” I said. I took a deep breath, inhaled the rest of my food, and let myself smile.
Warren asked the waiter for a couple of to-go boxes and I asked for the check. After a brief pit stop at the derby table, we were ready to go. As I paid, Warren gave each monkey a quarter to spend in the mini arcade. Satchel got a handful of chiclets and Jiro got a giant gumball.