Our First Barbeque. OMFG.

C. and I got a new grill last week and wanted to have a cookout this weekend for my parents and a couple of his friends. Our neighbors grill all the time and feed us so it's about freaking time we pay them back you know?

Anyways C. told me that he invited them (there's like 6 of them living there) but he only thought MAYBE 3 would show up. I of course figured he had been huffing paint and planned on at least 8 plus my parents and us. Then as we were shopping I remembered that there are a ton of people that drive by our house every day and HONK to say hello. I don't quite get the honking thing btw because living is such close proximity to others kind of defeats the purpose of the honk hello. It's more like living on an LA freeway during rush hour on a day that starbucks has been closed down due to lack of soy milk, everybody's pissed off and nobody can really figure out who or what is really being honked at.

Blah, I digress. I bought enough food to feed an army knowing damn well that it would get used and all the while justifying it to C. by saying that we would eat what didn't get used later in the week.

Being a Mexican it seems like he would GET that a ton of people would just show up. He must have some sort of weird mexican true stereotype block on his brain or something. I don't know but it's a damn good thing that I'm well versed in stereotypes. Go cracker Go.

So, he planned on MAYBE 7 people, and how many did I manage to feed? TWENTY ONE. I think. There might have a couple more but good lord jumping bean it was a little nuts.

Speaking of beans, Holy Fuckin Frijole those people can eat. Leftovers? Food for later in the week to cook? HAHAHAHAHAHA No. But we had fun and all that blah blah so whatever.

Perhaps the highlight was my Dad getting drunk and trying to hug everyone before they left. In case you don't know, Mexicans aren't' touchy freely folk and my dad tried at one point to hug and OLD mexican man. Wow! That was awkward, stiff and accompanied by me silently praying "please don't slug my Dad, please don't beat my dad." C's used to it now and takes it pretty well but these poor people were really in for it.

BTW did I mention that all 20 mexicans present (cept c.) speak zero to 5 words of english and my parents speak zero? Right, my Dad trying his best to do scarades and communicate was beautiful. But you know what the craziest part was? They liked him! Because he was drinking BEER. They thought that was cool cuz they were drinking beer too and the cracker wasn't a stiff.

Who needs word communication when you have meat, gestures and beer.

God bless America.