¿Dónde está la cuchara?

What trip down Interstate 95 would be complete without a stop at South Of The Border? I mean, I think its the law to stop, isn't it?

I can't tell you the last time I was here, yet it is exactly as I remember it. Except that this time I see this place for what it really is. Tourist trap? Mecca for all that is cheesy? Monument to the excesses of capitalism?


Nope, none of the above. This place is photographers heaven. And unfortunately, I had no time to linger. Imagine that! Every other time I've been here I couldn't wait to leave, and this time I had to leave when I really wanted to stay.

We stopped only long enough to eat at Pedro's Diner. Its one of those places that makes you long for a shower after you've eaten. Its one of those places that somehow manages to make a sealed package of soup crackers seem... "sketchy". The boys ordered soup. Turns out that "soup" is Spanish for "bowl of tepid, gelatinous liquid with a spoon suspended somewhere inside it".


But we ate, and then spent the next 100 miles or so scouting the road ahead for good places to pull over to the side - quickly. Fortunately, this proved to be unnecessary.

While we were waiting eagerly for our bowls of tepid, gelatinous liquid, I noticed the festive illustrations on the menu. In fact, they were so interesting, I concocted an eleborate scheme to "steal" one of these menus. First, I pretended to unwittingly drop it on the floor. Then, I inadvertently slid it across the floor as I crossed my legs. This placed the menu directly below Josh's chair. He of course noticed it right away, and bent down to pick it up, whereby I kicked his leg and told him - under my breath - to leave it there. This exchange caught Diane's attention. She scolded me for trying to steal a menu, then kindly asked the waitress if we could keep one. This exchange caught the attention of the In-Laws, which prompted a lecture about setting a proper example for Josh and Kyle.

At any rate, I got the menu. As we continued our drive, the illustrations provided for an excellent lesson in cultural stereotyping. During this lesson, I discovered that Kyle believes all fast-food workers are "oriental". Clearly, I've unearthed an issue. Got some work to do there.