Why Must You Taunt Me, Mystery Burger?

A fast food restaurant incessantly advertises on the cable stations around here. It sounds really good, too. Now apparently they have some type of luau burger. That comes with pineapple! It's as if they reached right into my dreams and pulled out a burger. Topped with pineapple!

Unfortunately, I don't think this burger place actually exists. I have never in my life seen one, and it sounds totally made up. (I mean, really. Who puts pineapple on a burger? Except for a burger GENIUS, that is.) Why? Why do they keep advertising imaginary burgers at a nonexistent restaurant? Oh, the humanity!!!!

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In other restaurant news, I think I need to move. There are lots and lots of great restaurants around here, and I've been eating out every Friday night for a long time. Lately, though, everything is booked solid all night long. I went to the Salvadoran place to eat los platanos y un tamal, and those bastards told me there would be a one-hour wait. So then I went to the seedy Tex-Mex joint with the extensive margarita menu to eat Mexican wienerschnitzel, which sounds wrong but is so so right. And they told me it would be a two-hour wait! So then I went to the classier Tex-Mex place that just opened to eat enchiladas...and by that point there was a three-hour wait. I ended up at a nouveau "New Mexico" style place where I had to eat some weird pie thing and blue corn chips and the tables were so close that I practically had to sit in the lap of a Mad Max reject and felt totally uncomfortable attempting to carry on a conversation, which was pretty much impossible anyway given the loud music. But the wait was only 45 minutes. Sweet!

It's no wonder so many of my outings end up at Chili's. I am not hating on the Chili's; it is good and the drink menu yummy and at least I can get a table (eventually). But if I have to eat one more southwestern eggroll I think I will go mad.

It has been suggested to me that if we were to go to dinner at 5:30, all our problems would be solved. That's rich coming from people who can leave work at 5 and have no commute. On Fridays, I leave work at 6 (risking serious scandal and imminent unemployment) and, if I'm lucky, get home by 6:45. Then I want to change because I have to wear an uncomfortable suit to work with hose and heels (again, unknown experiences to those who spend Fridays in jeans and flip-flops).

Anyway, I want good food, goshdurnit. I want to dine on Indian curries and Japanese steak and Venezuelan cachapas and really just about anything as long as it tastes good (just no fish 'cuz eeeew). And is it asking so much to want to do so at 7:30 on a Friday night?

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Ho hum. The last time I got on this computer was three weeks ago. It just seems like so much of an effort to, ugh, walk into the room and turn it on and wait for it to load. And my laptop-on-lap idea – undeniably brilliant thought it was – simply won't work in my house because I don't have wireless Internet. I'm left to scavenge for it elsewhere while watching the Super Bowl.

By the way, I watched the Super Bowl – and really enjoyed it. I hate sports, but I hate Tom Brady more. That made it fascinating, and oh so satisfying. I thought I was the only one, but I've since uncovered a vast cult of outraged womanhood that banded together last Sunday to root for his downfall. That's really kind of special, don't you think?