"Jack, that was Kay on the blower. She and Mr. T have a mind to take in a brunch over at the Radio Room seeing as how it's Easter and Kay's missing her mother's special Easter Basket. What do you say we waddle on over there for a meetup and feedbag? I could use a couple blowout patches and a south-of-the-border huevos revolvos." "You know you don't have to ask me more than once if I'm up for birdseed at my favorite watering hole. If you're counting noses, mine is in the tent!"
We headed out on shank's mare, dodging raindrops, until we arrived at a place that will hit whatever spot you've got itching you. The Bingo Board was aglow, but I'm thinking the numbers were left from last week. Looked to my eye like I was the big winner and I don't mean I as in me as I, not as in B-I-N-G-O, wasn't there for the gaming last week. Too late in the day for me and Dolly-girl.
There was pretty good evidence that someone loved the drinks, or at least the drink menu. I mean, there was a clue not even Jack D'Mestiere could miss. I whistled up a Radio Mary from our soup jockey. "Want to make it yourself? We've got a DIY Bloody Mary bar in the bar." "Nah, I'd rather have someone who knows how to construct one do it for me." "On it." She was back in the blink of an eye--not my eye, but an eye, nevertheless, with a clue that someone in the other room knew their way around a bar.
We all ordered up and before long, the ups-and-downs of jaws replaced wagging tongues. I was there so I could tell you here that you can't beat Rancheros Mutantes--add a side of porker, cured and sliced. Here's what they look like 15 minutes on.We waddled on out of there, happy as razor clams on a ebbing tide when the season is closed.
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