Margaritas on the Patio

It was Friday night and I was craving two things: 1) a frozen margarita since it was 100+ degrees outside and 2) a great patio to enjoy the frozen concoction on. The obvious choice.....Arriba's on McKinney Ave. I called up The Chin, who has been about as pathetic as I when it comes to going out in the last month, to come along. Of course The New Yorker had to make an appearance before her many dates that were scheduled to take place that evening (I don't know how she does it, but The New Yorker has one of the busiest social calendars in all of Dallas).

We sat out on the patio, underneath the cooling fans, and enjoyed people watching while sipping on our melted concoctions. You see, after I had ordered my frozen margarita with an additional Grand Marnier floater, Robin Leach decided to delete my order and opt for a pitcher of frozen drinks for all of us instead. Great idea, Robin. He was unable to pour the drinks without them getting all over us. Thus, we sat there with a pitcher of melted margaritas, a sticky table, and no pink floaters. He's too cute to stay mad at for very long though!

Little did we know that our selected table was at the front of the Karaoke stage. We listened to some awful renditions of In Da Club, My Humps, etc before a surprising talent sang Sexual Healing. Maybe it was the way that he looked at The New Yorker and I as he belted out Marvin Gaye or maybe it was just that song selection itself, but he got my vote! I flirted with the idea of getting up there with The New Yorker and completely embarrassing our table, but then decided that I was way too sober for that.

After a pitcher or two of margaritas, we had to call it a night. Us old folks who get up at 5:00 am cannot stay out late like we did in our younger years (that was a few months ago for me!). The New Yorker, however, had several more stops to make that evening and somehow managed to talk us into a ride to The Republic. Who knows what happened next.....