I arrived here before my friend did and so I parked myself on one of the unoccupied benches that serve as dining tables. This was about 6:15ish. After sitting there a little while one of the employees politely asked me if I could get up because other people needed the spot. I understood and went outside and waited out front for my friend. A few minutes later when we both entered and sat down, this same employee apologized profusely. Almost a little too profusely. Clearly this is a man who cares about his customer service.
You can argue over the relative deliciousness of the food here (an argument that is centered around how good it is, rather than IF the food is good) but what is not open to debate is the authenticity of the experience. This place is so Mexican it hurts. After eating here it made me question whether I should see a doctor to check for swine flu. It's that Mexican.
A stop here would be incomplete without a quick crane of your neck up to the tv screens showing Mexican television. When my friend and I ate here we spent most of our time trying to piece together the obscenely convoluted plot of the Mexican soap that was on.
Little did my friend know, I am secretly in love with her sister while about to be married to her other sister even though that sister spurned my best friend after he got her pregnant. But I am definitely not responsible for the poisoning of her father, that was her jealous uncle who has always wished it was he, not his brother who had married her mother