One Night in Idaho

     Oh hello there!  I'm in a hotel in Idaho, it's called the guesthouse and I am just a little bit drunk.  I am, by scientific terms, three beers drunk.  You are probably wondering how I got so drunk, well let me tell you my friends.  Pull up a seat, or a chair on wheels while I tell the tale.
     I'm working in Rexburg, Idaho.  It is well documented how much I hate Rexburg, so I am staying in  St. Anthony for the first time.  St. Anthony is about 15 minutes outside of Rexburg and there isn't an Applebees in sight.  Unless you are up high, then I guess you could see the Applebees that is in Rexburg.  Whatever.  I just got off work and I am dead tired, I need food.  Last night while eating at Applebees a drunk lady was going on and on about this amazing restaurant called Chiz, located in St. Anthony.  How convenient!  I am temporarily located in St. Anthony!  Off to Chiz we go.
     I'm pretty excited, this place sounds legit.  I pull out my iPhone and try to navigate to this mecca of awesomeness.  Then I laugh because I opened up the Apple Maps program, which is kind of like when a small child draws America and they think they did a good job.  Silly Apple, you suck now and I find that funny.  I close Apple Maps and open Google Maps, which leads me directly to Chiz!  I park and read the sign out front, "Chiz:  A Cougar Bar".  Whoa, the drunk lady did not say anything about cougars.  Shit is getting real,  this is going to be good.  Then I see another sign, "CASH ONLY".  Bullshit!  Typical Cougar cash only sale.  I'm not going to put up with this.
     I drive two blocks back to the hotel because I remembered the front desk had a binder full of local restaurants.  I walk in and the lady at the desk immediately tells me to go to Adams Kitchen.  She says everything is amazing.  She has had the burgers, steak, sushi.  Loves it all.  Ok, not sure why you just said sushi but I'll bite.  We drive to Adams Kitchen.
     Adams Kitchen is on the side of the highway, it's in a log cabin.  There is a large sign out front with a knife, a fork, and chop sticks.  Ok.  It's 2014, there is nothing wrong with mixing things up a bit.  We go in and meet our server, a japanese lady by the name of June(lie?), that is the most awkward human being I've ever met.  I ask for a beer menu and she comes back with a small tablet with 6 beers handwritten on it.  She says she doesn't drink beer so she has this list.  Ok.  I order a Mirror Pond.  June comes back a few minutes later and pours me my beer.

     I knew that this was going to happen and I did nothing to stop it.  When June walked up holding a beer mug that clearly holds 20 oz. and not 12 oz.,  I suspected something was amiss.  June set the glass down, then proceeded to turn the mirror pond straight up and down above my glass.  It was awesome, I just watched it with a smile.  I thanked June and she went on her way.
     Two more coworkers showed up and took their seats at the table.  I advised them that they might want to consider pouring their own beer.  Andy took it serious.  June brought Andy a Kirin and went to pour at the same time Andy reached out to take the beer.  He informed June that he would be doing the pouring this evening and she left.
     We begin to get settled in and I take a look around at the house decor.  Their is a sign that says "Paris", a picture of a duck above a picture of a hamster and some sweet lighting that puts me in the mood to hang out awkwardly in a cabin and feel like an asian.  The lighting is super informational, it says "Sushi" on them.

   
     Andy went to the bathroom and found some interesting writing on the bathroom door.  I had to inspect it for myself.

     I didn't expect to find a better bathroom door lock in Idaho but I did.  Sometimes magical things just happen.  I order my second beer, I pour it all by myself.  We finally get around to looking at the menu and deciding on food.  This place has edamame, prime rib, steak and sushi.  Ok.  Chris orders the Prime Rib, June tells him he gets to eat at the salad bar.  I order steak, I do not get to eat at the salad bar.  June doesn't ask me how I would like it cooked.  As an afterthought, I recommend that maybe they cook it rare.  She gives me a look that kind of felt like she was saying, "fuck off".   Chris goes and helps himself to the salad bar full of Prime Rib eaters.
     June comes back.  She asks Chris if he wanted the Baby Back Ribs, he says he wanted the Prime Rib.  She says the Baby Back Ribs are the special and come with a salad bar.  He says he wants Prime Rib.  She leaves disappointed.  Chris eats his free salad.
     One of the guys in the booth close by pulls out his phone and starts playing a motocross game on it, the volume is at the max.  The restaurant becomes an intense race for a few minutes.  I start laughing and can't stop.  I start thinking about beer number three.  (Full disclosure:  On work trips, company policy is that they will pay for two drinks.  Anything after that you have to pay for yourself)
     Ten minutes go by.  I want to order another beer but I'm pretty sure starting a separate tab is out of the question.  I don't order.  Ten minutes go by.  I am going against company policy,  I order another beer, June totally judges me and says "Another?".  Later I find out that June had already written up our bill and I made her cross out my beer total and redo the entire totaling process, BY HAND.
     Andy Orders another beer.  June brings him the beer and it gets real awkward.  She tries to pour it, he says no, then he takes the bottle, then he says "Well if you really want to".  June doesn't pour it.  June leaves.  It gets really quiet and we wonder if we will ever eat again.  I talk about how excited I am to bring other employees to this place.  My employees act disappointed that I would do that.
     Everybody's food shows up except for Chris's.  Everybody's food sucks pretty good, except for Chris's because it doesn't actually exist.  My steak was cooked the average amount, which is what I suspect all of their steaks are cooked like.  About halfway through the meal we realize that Chris is still hungry and isn't eating.  We all have a good laugh because we are no longer hungry because we have food.  The prime rib finally shows up, it comes with "mashed potatoes", which were clearly made in preparation for Y2K in a bowl that could be microwaved.  I wonder aloud how many individual bowls of mashed potatoes they have frozen in the back room.  I ask for the check.
     I give June my credit card, she asks if this is our first time coming to Adam's Kitchen.  I laugh at the thought of a repeat customer, then I remember the lady at the hotel that told us to come here.  Maybe she is friend of Junes.  I don't know, something isn't adding up.  June brings back my card and gives me a present!

           Now I have to come back here!  I thought June hated me, but it turns out we are best friends.  She decarbonates my beer, I tip her 20% for horrible food and service because I'm gutless, she gives me a card that doesn't fit into my wallet for 10% off.  I modify the card so I don't lose it.

   
      We leave the restaurant and I am sad to go.  I made a lot of memories there and I will miss June.  We pull into our hotel parking lot and I get out of the truck.  As I'm walking to my room I pass the front desk lady that recommended Adams Kitchen.  She looks so happy and excited to hear what I think.  I LIE.  I look her in the face and tell her that it was great.  Which, in a way, wasn't a lie at all.

   

What I hate about Mexicans.

Hey, you clicked!  Alright!

So what I did there with the title of this blog is called "click bait."  You make something huge and controversial and people can't stop themselves from clicking.  You were scrolling down your Facebook feed and that is what happened. Don't dispute it, I know.

The following is a direct account of your typical Facebook News Feed:

Facebook, Facebook, lets see what's going on in the world today.  Hmm, my old friend from high school seems to be going through a hard time.  It's hard to know for sure but her status says, "Oh wow today is my worst day ever....".  

Okay, don't click that shit!  That is also a form of click bait, but it's a totally lame form that involves sadness and misfortune wrapped up into some sort of scavenger hunt where the person doesn't tell you what happened but they do want you to be concerned and to console them.  It's called vaguebooking and it's vile.  What do they want from me?  Well, I'll tell you what they are going to get from me.

"Dear friend from High School that I don't have any interaction with: congratulations on your ability to procreate at a remarkable pace.  I always knew that you had taken it hard when you didn't make the basketball team.  It's good to know that you have created your own in-house team.  Good on you.  I don't know why you are sad, mainly because you didn't say why you were sad.  I can only assume that your children have surpassed your basketball abilities and have gone out-of-house to bring in more talent.  That's rough, but look on the bright side--you can still make babies.  Unless you are double-sad because your children replaced you on your "home-grown" basketball team AND you got your tubes tied.  Or whatever it is when they do it go a guy.  Tubes tied, unscrewed the hose, whatever.  Anyway, if that happened then that TOTALLY sucks, man.  So in closing, I'm sorry for the fact that you still suck at basketball and you can't get girls pregnant anymore.  Which TOTALLY goes hand in hand with your dream of being in the NBA."  

Zing!


Moving on:

Oh hey look, my old college buddy has posted an article about how (insert political affiliation) is trying to destroy (insert something you enjoy), and he can prove it with a link to this (insert some extremist political affiliation) website.  Wow.  This seems totally legit.  I totally trust the guy but just for fun I guess I will go to Snopes.com and check this out. 

(10 seconds later)  My college buddy is a stupid moron.

Onward, ever onward.

 ^That is a mormon reference

Okay, what do we have here? 

If one hundred thousand people like this picture of these ugly kids holding a shitty sign then their shitty parents will buy them a dog.  

First of all, I love dogs, and I hate these kids and their parents, the dogs don't deserve to be involved in this and dogs getting a home shouldn't hinge on stupid Facebook likes.  No thank you, get a basketball, start a stupid team.


Scrolling:

Lets see here, apparently Nick has posted to his stupid blog again.  "What I hate about Mexicans."  Whoa.  Holy shit, Nick has completely lost it.  I've gotta read this, then I'm gonna share it and get so many likes!  This shit is going to be trending.  #thelastsonofbobhatesmexicans  

CLICK.



WELCOME BACK.  That was quite the journey and I'm glad that I can be the high point of your social networking day.  What?  Nope, definitely meant to say high point.  Stop being weird.  Anyway, you came here to find out why I hate Mexicans and I am not one to disappoint.  (Disclaimer:  I am one to disappoint while playing Catch Phrase, Basketball, Baseball, Football, shoulder strength tests, hair free competitions, prohibition law-following, talking quietly while drinking, dressing fashionably, dressing myself in an acceptable way at all, making the bed with all those god damn pillows, folding fitted sheets, being organized, filling up my car before it is dangerously low on gas, making my sideburns line up with each other, shaving, finding things at the grocery store, finding things in my house, remembering to do something tomorrow if you tell me today, remembering to do something tomorrow if you tell me tomorrow, navigating to a location and not passing it, not throwing up while in Texas, driving any vehicle smaller than my work van.  End disclaimer)  My hatred of Mexicans really boils down to one simple thing.  The hard-shell taco.

Seriously,  people willingly eat these things?  Have they met the soft-shell?  The hard-shell taco is designed in such a way that if you touch the damn thing, it explodes into shards of glass.  By DESIGN that is its purpose.  You take your little hard channel of death and put meat at the bottom because it's the heaviest. That makes sense.  Then you layer on all of your cheese, lettuce, guacamole, salsa, etc.  When you are done you have a beautiful piece of food that nobody can eat without getting completely stressed out.  Every time I take a bite I'm scared that this is the time it will explode, sending shards of hard shell into my gums and launching meat and condiments across the room.  Taco salads were created by people that got tired of stressing out about that shit.

"Can I get a hard-shell taco? Oh, and will you just put it in a big ass bowl?  Thanks."  

The worst part about the whole situation is IF you do successfully take a bite you get to eat one of two things.  A bite full of just taco meat, or a bite full of lettuce, cheese and salsa.  It's IMPOSSIBLE to actually taste what you created as it is intended.  It's too damn wide.  I'm no porn star.

This is an outrage and I don't believe for a second that the people in Mexico actually use hard shells.  You want to know why?  Because the soft-shell taco exists!  The soft-shell taco takes all of the hard-shell taco's faults and fixes them!  You take a soft, pliable, delicious... circle thing (Disclaimer:  I don't actually know what a soft shell is, I mean I know it's a tortilla, but if you told me to define a tortilla I'm pretty sure I would say it was a soft-shell taco creation device).  Anyway, you take this circle and you evenly distribute all of your meat and fixings in an organized line, marching down the center of the tortilla.  Everything is stacked on top of the previous food item.  Then you roll up the tortilla and it all mixes together and is evenly distributed throughout!  Your first bite and all consecutive bites are all equally amazing!

My detractors will probably point out that they like how crunchy the hard-shell taco is.  First of all, a hard-shell taco is a Dorito before they make it good.  Go buy a bag of Doritos. You're welcome.  Second of all, can't you just break off chunks of your hard shell and place them uniformly inside your soft shell with all the other things you want to eat?  It's called a soft shell taco crunch.

And that, my friends, is how soft-shell tacos made me love Mexicans.