tacos de fabuloso

On Friday S and I went out for Mexican food. I always eat the food too quickly. It's too good, I'm too hungry, the frozen margarita is too beguiling. It is all at once. We sat this time in a booth in the far back room and it was alive the whole time. We shared the space with a dozen drunk, maybe, 19-year olds on their way to an 80's prom, trussed up and over done. I think they assumed they'd be the life of the restaurant, that they'd be the loud ones. But they were bested--and this just made me so damn fond of humankind and all its shapes and sizes--by the table to their right: a surprise party being thrown by a large group of exuberant middle-aged gay men. 'Oh honey, I have BEEN to an 80's prom!! IN THE 80's!' I think this would be a fantastic demographic for throwing surprise birthday parties. I liked how both tables joined in to sing happy birthday and I liked how the volume just kept raising. It's always a competition. I didn't stop smiling the whole meal. S, me, incredibly good tacos and margaritas, spray-tanned and crimped college kids, and big voiced and big spirited gay men. I mean. It was an entertaining Friday night. I wished I knew all of their names.