Nachos Rule Forever: Burrito Bar

This is the kind of shithole place where yuppy idiots scarf their wannabe "Tex Mex"(Is that racist? I'd be pissed if someone said a burger and fries was "Cau" grub.) food and think all is right with the world. I really hate places like this and the people that frequent them. My list of grievances towards this so-called "Burrito Bar" runs longer than an all-you-can-eat chimichanga line. Also, my wife is staying with her friend Marjorie above it. I guess, honestly, the grievance list would probably start and end right there. The nachos did suck though. More on that later.

I promise I wasn't stalking. It just seemed like the next place I should hit. I saw her walk in though. That tree out front makes for a good hiding place.

She walked in with this smarmy looking guy who was wearing a cheap looking suit. He looked like my Uncle, the accountant. He probably goes to "Burrito Bar" all of the time. I can imagine him right now ordering some kind of ridiculously named jumbo sized margarita feeling like the king of the fucking world. I can just see him, "accidentally" brushing his hand against my wife's arm as he reaches for the bland chips and salsa. Talking about his money market account. God, what a douchebag.

I have to stop this. On to nachos.

Let my say first and foremost, these nachos were SOGGY. Soggy isn't even the word. Drenched is more like it. Now I could blame this on the ninety minutes or so I spent outside behind that tree but come on, a hearty well-made pile of nachos should be able to withstand that. You can't really tell from this photo, but trust me. It was like eating nacho soup.

Also, the menu promised "Tri-colored chips." Don't believe the hype folks. The twisted money-mongering bozos at "Burrito Bar" think it's funny to lie to people. The chips were distinctly single colored. And that color sort of looked like poop.

Also, did I mention this plate of sadness was ten bucks? Jesus. Few more of these and I won't be able to afford a divorce lawyer(Know of any?) These nachos were an absolute cluster-fuck and for the first time in my pathetic, loveless life, I did not finish my plate. They ended up in the trash. I blame that on the nachos but in all honesty my wife called as I was eating them and my appetite went south. Here is a transcript:

Me: Hello
Her: Were you outside of Marjorie's today?
Me: Umm, no(Nervous laugh) Why would I go there?
Her: Don't lie to me. You were. She saw you.

Awkward silence

Her: So you were. And hiding behind a tree? Jesus Gary that's just weird.

Awkward silence

Me: Well, so? Who was that guy you were talking to? Think I'm blind? Some fucker in a cheap suit.
Her: Are you drunk? Your drunk. God. I have to go. Don't do that anymore.
Me: Who was that guy? You think I'm blind. I saw him.
Her: That was my lawyer, Gary. Goodbye.

Click.

Ouch. Yeah, these nachos fucking sucked. The guacamole wasn't bad though.

The chips inability to stay crispy for a paltry couple of hours: