Happy Memorial Day! Are you off from work today? I am and I'm celebrating by wearing man-shorts and Charlie Manson hair. I look good.
Disclaimer: This is a long story, but totally worth it in the end.
Last night around 7:45pm, my sister called and asked if we'd had dinner yet. It was impeccable timing because we were being lazy and had only started to open up some leftover freezer packages to throw together something I like to call "Leftover Cafeteria Special Food Surprise." Actually, I've never called it that, but I should because that's basically what it is. Anyway, my sister and her family, along with my mom, were going to our favorite "gourmet burger" restaurant and asked us to join. Not being ones to pass up good food, we threw all of our freezer odds n' ends into ziplock baggies and jumped in the car.
When we got to the restaurant, we discovered the worst news of my life.
It was closed.
Not, like, forever closed. Just closed because it was 8:00pm and apparently that's too late for a restaurant to be open on a holiday weekend.
After a short discussion in the parking lot, we opted to move our caravan over to Fatburger. However, by this point, we'd learned our lesson and Eric called ahead to check their hours. And of course, they closed at 8:30pm, which was about the time that we would be getting there.
Since we didn't want to waste any more precious time traveling to another location, because it was becoming apparent that all notable eateries close down at dusk, we decided to go to a chain restaurant called Buffalo Wild Wings because it was located nearby.
Immediately upon entering, I was punched in the face with the sour smell of buffalo sauce. It was sick. Not wanting to be the one to put us back on a restaurant-hunt, I sucked up my disdain and put our name in at the front desk. The host looked like a stereotypical meathead, prettyboy jock. Mouth-breather, for sure. He was rude and dumb and I'm sure his mother is very proud.
I grabbed a menu and looked through the shitfest to figure out what I could eat. Shock and awe, there was nothing. So, we ended up leaving the place five minutes after we'd gotten there. While standing outside, we decided to caravan our group of 10 over to BJ's Brewery. Eric called ahead and they were definitely open. Things were looking good.
We got to BJ's and what do you know, there's a 45 minute wait.
By this point, it's 8:30pm, we have five hungry kids on our hands and we know our options are limited.
There happens to be an In-N-Out in the same shopping center as BJ's, so we settle on that and make our way over.
As we pull into the parking area, a WHOLE BASEBALL TEAM OF HUNGRY TEENAGE GIRLS RUNS INTO THE RESTAURANT. No joke, like 20 girls piled into In-N-Out, halfway sticking out of the front doors.
While my sister is standing in line (at the very back, practically in a different time zone), she spots an open booth. And even though it would probably be another two hours before we'd even get our food, we stake our claim. A few minutes later, another booth opens up and we take that one too. By this point, our group is pretty disorganized: Tanya is in line, Eric and I are at a booth, two kids are at the other booth. My mom and brother-in-law, Kenny, walk in and they're both shaking their heads, like "What the fuck are we still doing here when there are 200 amazon teenagers in front of us?"
It was around this time that Kenny's car alarm goes off. Loudly. He had parked right at the front door, so it was obvious that it was his car. He pressed the alarm button on his keys and it turned off. Some re-evaluations took place and Eric and I decided to bail and just grab fast food. Faster than In-N-Out.
One our way home, I got the following text from my sister:
This conversation still makes me laugh.
Apparently, M. thought it would be a good idea to play a game of "Hide" in the car when everyone else got out. And since we'd been in a hurried frenzy to find a restaurant, it just so happened that nobody noticed he was missing. So while everyone was hanging out inside In-N-Out, M. was trying to make his way out of the minivan. Which also explains why Kenny's car alarm went off not once, but two times.
Long story short (too late), after six failed dinner options (counting our original menu) and the chance to eat with my family, the three of us ended up eating McDonald's at 9:00pm back in our living room, by ourselves.