After spending the night with my dance team - I had an epiphany! I realized that I should be a food critic, or just a critic in general. With the help of my dancefam, I took down some notes and now I will tell you a little bit about the place I went tonight.

FIESTA - MEXICAN RESTAURANT

Driving in with my mom, I was kind of scared to be honest a first. I was early for this dinner date and found that many sketchy vans and trucks kept driving in and out of the parking lot. It seemed they either had a lot of stuff to dump in the dumpster or a nice cocaine deal was going on - either way I didn’t mind. I want recommend being just on time for your special occasion at Fiesta. Walking up to the front door, I had to  look at it for a moment because it was orange.. and purple. What kind of awful Halloween gone wrong combination is that? Next time have Helen Keller pick out the color palate - even she has better taste than orange AND PURPLE.

Inside, the interior I found to be alright. Walking it was clean, but the bathroom is what really bothered me. Let me say this one time - TURTLES ARE NOT SPANISH. SALAMANDERS ARE - so please change the tile. Once we were seated, I realized that I was surrounded by a clusterfuck of all different types of Mexican stuff. Like balloons … Mexicans totally invested that shit right? No. The wall mural off of eBay was a really nice touch, it looked like someone really painted it on MS Paint - clutch. The benches awkwardly had coat hangers on them so your coat would be on the floor, and your belt loop would get caught… it was like this restaurant was out to give you a major wedgie or something! Holy guacamole.

 Like any other Mexican restaurant, first was the free chips and salsa. From others comments I learned very quickly the salsa was clearly flavored and vegetable ridden red food dyed water. Also, if you come here hungry.. you will be hungry for a long ass time because it takes FOREVER to get your food. Whether it be a single taco or a chimichanga - that shit takes forever! However the good news is - the food is great … if you actually order Mexican food. The buffalo chicken tastes like chicken, and you must ask for a side of buffalo to pour onto the already cooked chicken to give it flavor - aka sweat your balls off trying to eat them since they are super hot now. Because Mexican is so messy you must also use one napkin..and your pants or shirt as a napkin since they don’t give you any more.

As we all continued to eat I realized the music playing in the background sounded more like a dying man moaning for help; or it could’ve been the bus boy since he couldn’t lift any plates… same difference I guess. What also REALLY BOTHERED ME was it was my friend PACO’S BIRTHDAY and the staff would NOT SING AND SHAKE THEIR MARACAS FOR HER. My god — who doesn’t celebrate birthdays?! I don’t think any of those Mexican’s belonged to Jehovah’s Witness…

Upon looking at the dessert menu, they didn’t have churros… like da fuck? Excuse me, a Mexican joint should have this stuff! Instead many people at my table got fried ice cream… aka it wasn’t fried but rolled in stale corn flakes and served with minimal amount of whipped cream since the corn flakes were supposed to be star of the dish. Being lied to makes me want to open my own restaurant called “Corn Flakes and Lies” where everything you order just doesn’t come out right - and we can openly fuck up your order. I wonder how long I’d be in business?! Probably sixty years.

Overall, I was not feeling the party at Fiestas, and neither was my friend Paco…