Piola. One Less Friend.

So, I love Piola.  It is super shmlicious and I love eating it.

That said, over the years I have gotten to know this waiter that works there (I guess not really “gotten to know”, per se, but I always eat and drink the exact same thing and he remembers. I am nothing if not constant unless it’s a night I am looking to act like a jackass then I’ll start with a martini.  Let’s be honest, no one handles martinis all that well…

Anyway, we went the other day and I hesitated on what I wanted to drink.  Here was my train of thought- am I getting really drunk or just kind of drunk, so in my slight hesitation he made the joke, ‘well, it wouldn’t be dinner for you if you weren’t drinking a lot of wine, huh?’

First of all, thank you for verbally slapping me in the face.  Second, let me tell you, people love being made fun of.  Well, his accent sounds like Animal from the Muppets but you don’t see me throwing that in his face.

So although the waiter and I aren’t friends anymore, Piola is monsterdelicious.  But after the muppets comment, mine will just taste  little more like spit than yours.

Margie’s has Indoor Plumbing. But no plates.

The dude I live with and I have been together for 4.5 years and seeing as he isn’t from here, when we first started dating I wanted to show him all the sights.

Unfortunately to see “all the sights” only took about 5 days.  But fortunately for me we are creatures of habit, so to fill the 1,653 other days we go to Sushi Axiom (which used to be Chuy’s til we drank all day with another couple and decided to drink dinner there.  Oh, mistakes.  They say hindsight blahblahblah but I’m pretty sure I knew it was not a wise decision at the time.  Should I have margaritas for dinner?  No.  Ok, let’s go to Chuy’s after I finish this gin and tonic.  Oh, Chuy’s. I miss you.  Please forgive me one day).   I have been trying to get him to go to Margie’s since day two but he always refused.   It took 4 years but I finally broke him down.

My old roommate and I used to go Margie’s a lot.  I’m not quite sure why, seeing as it was 20 minutes from our house and out in the middle of no where.  Oh and on occasion the food was frozen in the middle, but I think the fact we continued to go might of had to do with me being underage and them not giving a shit.  Oh, I have to eat this frozen entree for you to give me wine?  Sure, that is actually not going to be a problem for me.

If I had my own restaurant, there are two things I would model in my resto after Margie’s.  I would, 1- also pour everyones wine like this.  Drunk people have fun, unless you’re at Chuy’s, then you (and by you I mean me) are just annoying.  And 2- I would also have indoor plumbing.  I love how that is a selling point on the outside of the restaurant.

I always love eating here but it’s one of those places where it’s either a really great  food or one of your worst dining experiences.  The funny thing is the service is always terrible but in a non-offensive way.  Like they just suck at serving food.  The waiter spent so much time taking our order but we only received parts of it.  Who cares, my wine was literally overflowing onto the table.  We asked for bread (twice because he forgot the first time) and he walked into the kitchen and came out with a loaf of bread in his hand and put it on the table.    No plates, but I figure they recover each table in paper after each diner so no need.  Plates?  Waste of time.  We also don’t need forks, clearly we have hands.  Thanks.

Random side story- there is this place in Port Aransas called Crazy Cajun. They serve your meal to you in a bucket (it’s like a crab/crawfish boil) and just dump it on your table.  There is a wrench, or whatever those tools are called to break open crab legs, and you get a roll of Bounty.  No forks.  No plates.  Kind of reminded me of Margie’s.

Eggplant goopile!

Oh dear jesus, I have to tell this.  When we overheard this sitting at our booth, my boyfriend looked at me painfully and said his ears hurt.  I said I had to put it on this blog because it was so stupid, and he looked at me and said, “I don’t doubt that you will for one second. ”  Not sure what he meant but that but I’m just going to assume it was positive.  You know what they say about people that assume things.  That they’re always right.

ANYWAY, there was the whitest trash of white trash sitting in the booth behind us discussing where they should vacation.  They spoke of visiting England (please don’t.  We Americans already have a hard enough time abroad) but he said he didn’t want to go to England.  “I want to go to Wales, see where the King lives.”  Well, they’re going to be looking around Wales for a long time seeing as there is no King and all the other folks he’s probably looking for are actually in England.

Then he continued on to say he also wanted to see Scotland. “It’s next to England on the other side.  Like the top part of the other side.”  Whatever the fuck that means.  All the while their four year old daughter, dressed like a 36 year-old stripper, is standing on the booth dancing to Garth Brooks, which is playing loudly in the back ground (you should also note Margie’s has a juke box).

Then they talked about “hitting up France.”  Now I am by no means brilliant in geography or the english language but I sat there feeling like  someone should give me a doctorate in both.  I just closed my eyes listening to “Friends in Low Places” and pretended I was at the Wynn in Las Vegas.

Oh, and then I went bowling.