Editorial Archives: Beefy Goes To A NICE Place

Happy birthday to me!

Beefy Goes To A NICE Place
January 27, 2007

I sure did. And can you believe that I behaved myself the whole time, too?

Hell no, that’s why there’s an Editorial about it.

Tonight was the annual drunken dinner for my Uncle’s birthday. Every year we go some place different, and I’m starting to think it’s because of us that we have to.

A few years ago when we started this we went to his favorite diner on the river. Some boat that looks like it’s seen better days, sitting on the banks of the mighty Ohio River. We had dinner on that once, and it was great. Shortly after we did, it sank.

After that we went to a place you may have heard of called Famous Daves. We had a blast. I think I blogged about this experience. My Aunt and I got so drunk that we started a conversation up with the giant pig mascot that was walking around with it’s cute BBQ apron on and chef’s hat. You know, a person in a suit.

We got it to sit down at the table in between us and we talked to it, for no less than an hour. We found out, from our drunken stupidity, that it was a 16 year old girl inside. Us being drunk equals her giggling inside the pig suit, and us finding out that it was indeed a girl. Following that giggle, we asked her a hundred question, trying to play Matlock, in trying to figure out why she wouldn’t talk to us.

What we learned, after a half an hour of questioning, was that she was 16, didn’t drive yet, and wasn’t allowed to talk to people while in uniform. SO, we then attempted to make her talk for another fifteen minutes until her manager came passed the table for the 5th time and finally made her get up and walk around. Apparently there were some new customers that hadn’t been waved to yet by the giant pig.

This day was not our best, but we had fun. And shortly after, Famous Daves closed, and nothing has moved in to that space since.

So this year we had to go somewhere else. My Uncle decided he wanted to try this place out called Coyote Grille. I know nothing about this place except that I’m expecting to eat a dish that in some way consisted of coyote, and to get very drunk with my Aunt again. She’s fun.

To start off, this place is in a newly built up area of a vastly expanding part of town that pretty much belongs to the upper class, snobby, republican, white folks. The kind of people I hate. And Readers, I hate a lot of people. But nobody pisses me off more than my own kind that act like they’re better than me, when in all reality they’re so far below me it makes me sick. I was definitely going to have a good time here, because I had already planned on getting drunk.

The place was nice. A little too nice. Rich, white people nice. We made our way to our table, which was also nice, and ordered drinks. My Aunt started on margaritas. I opted for a beer.

A few more later of each, and we’re already feeling good. I was already feeling great, because I was sitting in the middle of a restaurant wearing clothes that should probably be burned, amidst a bunch of folks dressed like they either came from, or are going to a reception of some kind. I got looks when I walked in is all I’m saying.

Let the games begin.

  • I pissed off our waitress within the first two visits to the table so much that she refused to talk to me for the rest of the visit.
  • My mom had to order my dinner for me because of this, and while ordering to my mom so she could relay to the waitress although everyone could hear me, I just “couldn’t make up my mind.” After several decision changes, I was settled with what I ordered.
  • One of the things that pissed off my waitress was my rage over the fact that NOTHING on the menu had coyote in it.
  • I went out to smoke and when I came back in I happened to be behind a lady and her two kids as they were being escorted to their table by the Maitre De. As they all climed into their booth I slid in next to the mom and before she could say anything the man handed us all a menu, and I looked at the mom and said, “So, what do we feel like?” and I opened the menu and looked in.
  • I was forced to leave when the lady screamed, “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”
  • Sometime during dinner my cousin says something about her dad sneezing and blowing his nose at the table. I then say to my cousin, “What’s wrong with that? I’ve been farting ever since I sat down.” She was at the other end of the table, so I had to say this loud enough for her to hear.
  • I scored more points with the waitress when a lady walked passed our booth and bumped into the back of my seat. She then laughed to my waitress and steadied herself. I grabbed my waitress by the arm, stared at her very seriously, pointed to the girl and said, “She doesn’t need any more. Seriously.”
  • My Aunt is talking about something and she’s slurring almost all of her words. When she’s done talking I look at my Uncle and say, “You’re going to get a GREAT birthday present tonight!” My Aunt looks at me and says, “Huh uh. I’m going to be passed out.” I follow that with, “He doesn’t need you to be awake.”
  • A few moments later my Aunt is worrying about the hangover she’s going to have the next morning. I give her a beer drinkers wisdom. “Don’t worry about the hangover tomorrow, when you still have alcohol in front of you today.”
  • I got into a heated debate with my step dad over politics, because he’s a die hard republican and I can’t stand those kind of people. I made sure the audio levels were escalated, because this place is FULL of republicans.
  • As we were leaving I stopped at the door greeter’s booth and say to the girl standing there in the really cute skirt, “I would do things to you that your dad wishes he could still do to your mom.”

I’m pretty sure this place isn’t going to be around much longer. We’ve struck again. While outside smoking I found out from my Uncle that something else was in the building before Coyote Grille, but this place had been there for a while. It already has a curse on it from the location. And now that we were there, it’s future is definitely bleak.

I hate places that have a name that lies. Like the Macaroni Grill serves NO macaroni at all. God damn commies.

2 responses to “Editorial Archives: Beefy Goes To A NICE Place

  1. I looked at the mom and said, “So, what do we feel like?” and I opened the menu and looked in.

    Hahahahahahaha. I laughed my ass off at that.

  2. Yeah, that was a fun night. The restaurant sucked though and I’d never go back, although the dish I had that night was pretty good, just too expensive for what I got. It was some pasta dish that had blackened portobello mushrooms on it and they were fucking tasty. Still though, for the price, I could have had multiple tasty meals from somewhere else that would have all filled me up more than this one dish did.

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