The Perfect Magarita

Feb 26, 2006 23:04

First of all, I started to type this post on my piece of shit Blackberry and in the middle of it the piece of shit rebooted.  WTF?  Ok, so I'm stuck in another airport - its becomming all too common.  I'm at IAH - George Bush International - Houston - God's country.  My connection to Austin is delayed, so I headed from the C consource over to the E concourse where I know there is a Pappadeaux resturant.  So, here I am on the Sunday before Mardi Gras listenting to some pretty good cajun music and eating some pretty good food.  The gumbo was very good and the shrimp and crabmeat cocktail was a ceveche' style dish.

And I am drinking The Perfect Margarita - according to Pappadeauxs.  I think I spelled it wrong, but who cares.  I'm on my second.  The first was not the Perfect - it was the really good or something.  So, the point is that in all of my various delays and frustrations over the past few weeks I have had the opportunity to explore the question of what is the Perfect Margarita. I had a peach thing in Boston with sugar on the rim at Naked Fish that might be it.  I had a really good one at Ninfa's in Houston that was really good.  And I had two very good ones at Legal Seafood in Boston last week.  But, I think Pappadeauxs is on to something.  The bests margarita use some kind of silver taquilla.  In this case it was Patron Silver I think.  The rest, I have no idea.  But, silver is good.  And the perfect margarita is expensive.  It been a long time since I went to an actual bar, but apparently drinks cost a lot more than when I did.  The perfect margarita seems to cost about $10 or $11.  That's a lot of money, especially when the gumbo and the seafood coctail cost less than that.  The woman living in Casey's room tells me that they really do cost that much.  Whatever.

Here is the point - you need a purpose in life.  I have found mine.

Oh yeah - the best part is I get paid $450 an hour to pursue this mission.  Soon to be $500.  The thought of that makes me feel better.

Post Script - I had saved this to my computer in the resturant cause I had no Internet connection and now I am at my hotel in Austin - pretty fancy digs.  Anyway, the waitress was dragging her ass with the check and I finally got out of there about a half hour before my flight was supposed to leave.  Guess what?  They moved up the flight.  So, I am hauling ass back to the C concourse cause I have seven minutes until departure.  Shit.  I get on the plane literally two minutes before they start giving away seats to standby passengers.  Holy Crap.  I think I have a headache now.

There may be a flaw in my new found mission. . .
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