I’m at the Mexican restaurant having my Saturday mimosa and omelet.

I just noticed there’s at least 3 other men by themselves eating and looking at their phones. Also a Mexican family of about 20 ppl came in. One toddler is dressed in a white tuxedo. With tails. And gold necklace. Nobody else is wearing a tuxedo. Why is this toddler wearing a tux?? Christening I reckon.

Three old ladies at the table in front of me are drinking Bloody Maries. Well, two of them are.

The Mexican children are loose. They’ve finished eating and are now allowed to wander. Tuxedo kid is hanging on a chair at my table, unaware of my presence – my space. My SPACE, kid!

Yes, uno Mas mimosa.

Mimosas are for alcoholics that refuse to admit they’re alcoholics. Only alcoholics drink in the morning. They think Mimosas don’t count. Maybe the dont.

One of the “cute” waitresses comes in for her afternoon shift.

Pabst Blue Ribbon Axe Throwing Championship on the TV. Spanish Christmas Carol’s play overhead.

I can see someone’s skinny, older aunt pull into the parking lot, stringy hair, cigarette in mouth, backing into the parking place.

Yes, otra vez mimosa

Cheese on top of my omelet. Supposed to be in my omelet. 

Tuxedo kid comes by with a French fry. No stains on his fine white pleated shirt. How the hell is that possible??

Michael Buble is singing Holly Jolly Christmas. 

It occurs to me if they threatened to deport enough people that your favorite Mexican restaurant would have to shut down, Americans would go to war with the Federal government. Maga, Antifa and every redneck and trans would lock arm in arm and tear down the administration. 

We should totally make Mexico the 51st state.

Holy shit. A little person just came in. I’ve been here 1000x and haven’t seen him. Listening to the Christmas music forces all the offensive tropes to rush through my mind. What a life he’s had.

Tuxedo Kid left, along with 30 some-odd family members. 

Extra tip for the waitresses. Tia.

Little person’s date arrives. I should stay.

But I cannot. Una Mas and I’d have to walk home. Thankfully that’s not far.

I find the baño on the way out. Smells of poo and Fabuloso. Its clean tho.

I like to think every neighborhood has that one Mexican restaurant they call their own. Ours is walking distance.

I’ll get the truck this afternoon.