Tequila all around
Everyone has a tequila story.
I have several.
NOT that kind. Well, okay, I do have one of those kinds of stories. Just one. I will not be sharing that here.
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Many years ago, my mom commiserated with me over a bad breakup and not having a job by watching Golden Girls reruns with me until 3 a.m. for weeks on end. We laughed and cried along with Sophia, Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche as they lived out their golden years together.
However, last spring, my divorce called for something much stronger than the Golden Girls: margaritas.
After the eight hour drive from Pittsburgh, my mom and I arrived in Charlotte - bleary-eyed and hungry. We made a stop at Chili’s. My order: a very large margarita and steak tacos. The cold margarita tasted like bliss even though I ached. The tacos were more food than I had eaten in days.
Mom and I frequented that Chili’s at least once a week for these commiseration margaritas over the course of my stay in Charlotte. A couple of times, we made our own frozen margaritas in my brother’s abandoned Ninja blender - salted rim and all.
Upon moving back to NOVA, I cut my margarita consumption - the Ninja stayed in Charlotte. It was time to get serious about getting my life back in order. I could not be whipping up margaritas on the weekly.
For any of you who are concerned, my margarita consumption approximated one or two margaritas per week.
I spent Thanksgiving in Charlotte and finally went back to that Chili’s for my first margarita since I had left. This time, I took my dad with me. Among many other things, I was thankful for margaritas.
I also spent Christmas in Charlotte, and thus, a visit to that Chili’s for my margarita was in order. This time, I took my mom and my dad with me. We celebrated making it through to Christmas. *Cheers*
Contrary to what you might think, I broke tradition and rang in the New Year with Veuve Clicquot.
Over my 15th Access Weekend for b-school in San Jose recently, we had a group dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I ordered a margarita, because, why not? It was good. Then, a dear friend ordered me a better margarita. And then, some special tequila - straight. And, to my surprise, it was amazing and smooth.
For any of you who are concerned, my margarita/tequila consumption that night ended there. There is no more to that story.
Tonight, the government shut down. I made myself a sad/mad margarita. Every time I think I could not possibly detest that man-child in the White House anymore than I already do, I detest him more.
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Many years into the future, I hope I am still breaking out the commiseration margaritas, the thankful margaritas, the celebration margaritas, and the just because margaritas.
Tequila all around.
With love,
KB
P.S. I am the proud owner of the abandoned Ninja. The tequila. The salt. The cointreau. I have limes and ice. So, if you need someone to commiserate with, celebrate with, or just want a margarita because, come over, I’ll provide. Frozen. Shaken. However you like. I promise we do not have to watch the Golden Girls. Just the Bachelor if it is a Monday night. And maybe I’ll tell you my other tequila story.
I have several.
NOT that kind. Well, okay, I do have one of those kinds of stories. Just one. I will not be sharing that here.
---
Many years ago, my mom commiserated with me over a bad breakup and not having a job by watching Golden Girls reruns with me until 3 a.m. for weeks on end. We laughed and cried along with Sophia, Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche as they lived out their golden years together.
However, last spring, my divorce called for something much stronger than the Golden Girls: margaritas.
After the eight hour drive from Pittsburgh, my mom and I arrived in Charlotte - bleary-eyed and hungry. We made a stop at Chili’s. My order: a very large margarita and steak tacos. The cold margarita tasted like bliss even though I ached. The tacos were more food than I had eaten in days.
Mom and I frequented that Chili’s at least once a week for these commiseration margaritas over the course of my stay in Charlotte. A couple of times, we made our own frozen margaritas in my brother’s abandoned Ninja blender - salted rim and all.
Upon moving back to NOVA, I cut my margarita consumption - the Ninja stayed in Charlotte. It was time to get serious about getting my life back in order. I could not be whipping up margaritas on the weekly.
For any of you who are concerned, my margarita consumption approximated one or two margaritas per week.
I spent Thanksgiving in Charlotte and finally went back to that Chili’s for my first margarita since I had left. This time, I took my dad with me. Among many other things, I was thankful for margaritas.
I also spent Christmas in Charlotte, and thus, a visit to that Chili’s for my margarita was in order. This time, I took my mom and my dad with me. We celebrated making it through to Christmas. *Cheers*
Contrary to what you might think, I broke tradition and rang in the New Year with Veuve Clicquot.
Over my 15th Access Weekend for b-school in San Jose recently, we had a group dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I ordered a margarita, because, why not? It was good. Then, a dear friend ordered me a better margarita. And then, some special tequila - straight. And, to my surprise, it was amazing and smooth.
For any of you who are concerned, my margarita/tequila consumption that night ended there. There is no more to that story.
Tonight, the government shut down. I made myself a sad/mad margarita. Every time I think I could not possibly detest that man-child in the White House anymore than I already do, I detest him more.
---
Many years into the future, I hope I am still breaking out the commiseration margaritas, the thankful margaritas, the celebration margaritas, and the just because margaritas.
Tequila all around.
With love,
KB
P.S. I am the proud owner of the abandoned Ninja. The tequila. The salt. The cointreau. I have limes and ice. So, if you need someone to commiserate with, celebrate with, or just want a margarita because, come over, I’ll provide. Frozen. Shaken. However you like. I promise we do not have to watch the Golden Girls. Just the Bachelor if it is a Monday night. And maybe I’ll tell you my other tequila story.
Love it! As usual.. and totally coming over for margaritas! :D
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