En el restaurante
Last night we were out shopping and decided to eat at our favorite Mexican place. We got there and the parking lot was full and we could see several people in the door area waiting. Silly us, it was Wednesday night, and a block from one of the biggest churches in town. So we head on to José's Cantina, of which I blogged once before. The short, cute Mexican host sat us at a table. A yummy mexican waiter got our drink order, brought the drinks, chips and salsa. When we finally decided to go for our old standby, steak fajitas for 2, I gave the order in Spanish ("Fajitas de carne para dos."). It sort of threw the waiter for a loop. He repeated the order in English to verify it was what I wanted. Of course, I said "Gracias" every time he brought something or refilled our cokes.
As we were finishing up, the host came by and chatted with me in Spanish. He was amazed at how well I spoke, and asked where I was from, since my English doesn't have the local accent (I guess). He told me that next Friday they are having a mariachi band from Atlanta play at the restaurant. I told him we might come to that (although I doubt we will).
What Phil and I both wonder is if he was chatting me up as part of customer relations, or if he was "chatting me up". Neither of us thought to look at his left hand for a ring. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing more of Raúl.
As we were finishing up, the host came by and chatted with me in Spanish. He was amazed at how well I spoke, and asked where I was from, since my English doesn't have the local accent (I guess). He told me that next Friday they are having a mariachi band from Atlanta play at the restaurant. I told him we might come to that (although I doubt we will).
What Phil and I both wonder is if he was chatting me up as part of customer relations, or if he was "chatting me up". Neither of us thought to look at his left hand for a ring. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing more of Raúl.