margaritas

There's a guy named John, like me. Now with this guy we know each other for ages and in some things we are alike. One of this things is drinking, occasionally smoking also.

There was a time when we were hanging out constantly either with friends or girlfriends or just us two. Longs nights, heavy mornings, mixed or no memories.

Lots of incidents during those nights, lots of fun too. I can remember both of us happily wasted in a 24hr sandwich shop trying to order sandwiches, we are starving. But we cant. We cant even stand up straight and the lady behind the bench who is there to help us, patiently and silently, is looking at us.

The vitrine is long and you can order a sandwich with anything you desire. We cant see clear so we have to bend, our faces are stacked on the glass vitrine, we hold each other and we swipe them from the one side to the other, choosing the ingredients.

Now we are both named John so all the lady can her is, "whats that John", "that's olives John", "do we want olives John?", "yes John we want olives", "olives". And she was putting olives in our sandwiches. Obviously no one was able to understand what we were ordering and therefore the same conversation took place for ham, extra ham, bacon, cheese, peppers, tomatoes, omelette, onion, white cheese, yellow cheese, blue cheese, potatoes, mayonnaise and so on...

When we succeeded to take off our faces from the vitrine and to stand up straight, we were so surprised why this woman was looking so angry at us and most of all why she was almost jumping on the toaster, in order to bake these sandwiches.

Later on we saw why. The sandwiches turned out to be gigantic and awful. Not a chance to bite as things were dropping here and there. We dumped the sandwiches and we went for pizza. Pizza is so much easier when you are drunk.

One of our top places to hang out was a Mexican restaurant named Santa Fe. Now there, were happening all sorts of miracles. Laughs till you drop and frozen margaritas till the place is empty and the owner politely asks to finish our night. We were a group of the same people or occasionally someone new will enter, but the core was always the same.

So one of those nights I cant feel my lips anymore. The salty frozen tequilas did their wonder, I am done. Next day morning I open my eyes, my lips are so dry, my mouth the same, but I am ok. No hangover. Is a warm Saturday, I aint got nothing to eat or to drink home and within minutes I am on my scooter headed to the sea. I ve chosen a location a bit far, but very nice.

By 12.00 I am still half way. The sun is now crossing right through my helmet, my brain and all my upper skull, goes directly on my tongue and upper throat. Bad choice not to drink some water I thought.

I am in an endless highway and my scooter is doing at its best 130-140 klm/hour. I am driving at full speed hoping to arrive sooner, there where I would find the refreshing sea, cold water with ice and of course coffee. Drops of salty sweat under my black helmet, runs through all my face, tequila and salt flavor all over me.

A the edge of the horizon, right next to the highway, headed my direction I can see a huge sign MARGARITAS. Is with red capital letters, placed on the side of the highway. I am impressed. Such a big sign I am thinking, very impressive. I am still driving direction to the sign but still away from it. What a fucker I am thinking, this guy, MARGARITAS.

Now in Greece, Margarita is the name of the flower which is known as daisy and I started to think, "Why the fuck he has such a huge sign placed on this spot advertising MARGARITAS? What the fuck? Is he selling MARGARITAS ? Is this possible? He is selling MARGARITAS and he makes a living that can allow him this size advertisement on this highway? ".

Thoughts and thoughts are flooding my mind. Drops and drops are flooding everywhere.

"Margaritas…fuck…how many we drunk last night…must call John later…fuck I am dried like a sun dried tomato…MARGARITAS…never seen this sign before...fuck…my head start to spin …my lips are so salty…I am so thirsty…what the fuck this guy is selling? MARGARITAS? How can it be…if I only had one now…"

Question after question, thought after thought, drop after drop, I arrived near the sign, MARBLE & GRANITE'S.