When I first came to check out the place that would become our new apartment, one of the first things I noticed was the Mexican restaurant, 10 feet away from our front door, with a large margarita on the sign. Surely a sign that this place would become home.
Tonite I walked from my apartment to a Mexican restaurant, and had tacos and margaritas within site of my front door. Ahh, the American dream.
Next time, I will try what I’ve been dying to try for awhile now: asking for a margarita to go. (The way I see it, it’s legal at the restaurant, it’s legal in the apartment, it’s just the pavement in between I’m not sure of.)
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