Occasionally the Livin’ and Dyin’ in ¾ Time Boys have what you might call guest speakers. Of course they always end up as merely listeners, few get a word in once the boys get going, but it sounds more polite to refer to them as such. Today, they had two of Mahahual’s newest residents, Keri and Dale Burns from freezing cold mid-western Ohio, listening in as the boys all argued which was the best restaurant in town, besides of course Buster’s, which all agreed was the best and also, coincidentally enough, had the best free tequila that the boys lapped up on a regular basis as well!
“No Hoch Kay,” said Ernie with his usual sense of authority. “Are you kiddin’ me. Those sauces of his are the best man. To me, you win the sauce battle, you won the war. Jaime wins the war. It’s that simple.”
“I respect the sauces as much as the next guy,” said Ronny, “but I’m going with Corona House on this one. Great tacos but come on, you throw in those BBQ ribs of his and that beats the sauces!”
“It’s about ambiance as much as food so I’m voting for Luna de Plata. A glass of wine, watching the moon rise over a plate of their lobster pasta is much more than just a great culinary experience. It’s heaven!” crooned Giles.
“I vote Karlita’s,” said Buster. “Those are the hardest working people in Mahahual. Where, this side of Cancun, are you going to get a cappuccino with a slice of homemade cheesecake with Mango topping and a side of apple pie.”
“Uh oh,” said Rick. “Speaking of other restaurants. Here comes your new best buddy, Mikey.”
“Sweet! Fill up the shot glasses, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to play Mahahual’s newest drinkin’ game,” laughed Ronny. “It’s called the ‘Mikey is the smartest asshole in the world’ game and it goes like this. This dude that is about to walk up, if he mentions, or anyone else who walks up mentions his MBA, we all have to take a shot. Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out as we go. Let the party begin!”
“Hey, we’re in,” said Dale and the nodding Kari.
“Well I see Buster has his usual crowd today, doing what it is you guys do the best,” said Mike McCoy, Mahahual’s newest restaurant owner from the US as he sauntered up to the group. He was a Boston man and by most indications, a nice and decent enough guy. He however had an annoying sense of superiority that made him, for the most part, an unbearable, self centered ass. Buster had tried to be friendly, even after Mike had treated him like a criminal for months, ignoring him and telling all who would listen that he was coming to take over the town’s terrible restaurant business. Since Buster was a part of that very group, he, like so many of the other restaurant people, found Mike unbearable to be around. His constant going on about his MBA had earned his reputation its very own drinking game at Buster’s. Ironically, Mike himself did not drink and thought little of those who did, unless of course they did it in his restaurant.
“Hola Mike,” said Buster in his best strained cordial tone. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company today. Let me guess, you stopped in for a tequila? Ronny, pour Mike a tequila.”
“Ha! Perhaps later. I prefer to keep the old head clear while I’m working. You might try it sometime Buster old boy,” he said in his best Kennedy-like tone.
“I did try it once. It sucked but thanks for the advice.”
“Just trying to help amigo. But that is not the reason for my visit. I heard we had new residents in town and I wanted to introduce myself. Mike McCoy and owner of Mahahual’s newest and soon to be #1 restaurant, Mike’s Home Cookin’” said Mike, trying hard to not pronounce the “g” sound on cooking. “I left the “g” off on purpose, giving the name a down home feel that Americans miss in a place like this. Marketing you know!”
“It is very nice to meet you Mike,” said Keri. “I’m sure we will coming to your place often. Is the new business doing good I hope?”
“It has been slow to get started but I’ll have it going great guns in no time. You know, you learn a lot when you get an MBA but not how to do business in Mahahual Mexico, that is for sure.”
And with that, all downed their shot glass.
“You got that so right there Mikey,” laughed Ronny. “ You have no idea how right you are.” Again, Ronny began to re-fill the glasses.
“Well Mike, it was very nice to meet you and we’ll stop in for some home cooking one night soon,” said Dale politely.
“I will very much look forward to it. Perhaps Wednesday night. It is meat loaf night. Mom’s special recipe.” With that he shook both Dale and Keri’s hands and off he went.
“Okay, is it only the sensitive gay guy that thinks that is kinda in your face for another owner to come into another place to promote his own? Hello! Buster, if you are not offended, I am!”
“Not if you are an arrogant self centered ass, it’s not wrong I suppose,” laughed Rick.
“Come on Buster, that dude just came in here and did an end zone dance right in front of your home bench and your cheerleaders. You gonna let him get away with that,” laughed Ronny.
“Oh please, will you stop with the macho football metaphors Jethro. Rude is rude and that guy really is kinda rude,” said Giles.
“Good point Tinkerbell,” pondered Ronny as he refilled the glasses.
“I don’t know guys,” said Buster finally when he could control his laughter. “Maybe he knows something we don’t. He does have an MBA and none of us can say that.”
“You just did!” yelled Ronnie.”Bottoms up.”
And with that, they all downed their second shot and all roared with laughter.
“So does anyone know from what prestigious university this clown actually got an MBA from,” asked Eric.
They all looked at one another and nobody said a word. None had ever actually heard him say from what school.
“Probably Cecil’s Business College” laughed Ronny. “Call me Jethro all you want but I have a Bachalor’s Degree in Journalism from The University of South Carolina. The real Deal. How about you Buster?”
“A lowly BA from The University of Texas Dallas. It’s not Cecil’s Business College but hey, who else is?”
“BYU Law. They give those to just any idiot you know,” said Giles.
“Buster, you should put that up for all to see inside your place with a big old banner. It can say ‘Buster has a BA from UT, look how smart he is!’,” roared Ronny.
After a few more minutes of jokes about how much smarter Mike McCoy was than everyone else, up walks Fransisco, the owner of the restaurant next door to Mike’s Home Cookin’, and he asks, “Buster, what is an MBA?”
Buster leaned over and began to pour new tequilas in the empty glasses, adding another for Fransisco. “I will tell you what an MBA is Fransisco, but first I have to ask, why do you want to know this?”
‘Because Senior Mike next door, he always tell me,” Fransisco, you need to do this or that because I have an MBA. Is this some kind of law you have in the US that says Gringos are smarter than Mexicans if they have one of these things?”
All reached for their tequila and downed their shots.
“It means they are smarter than all of us Fransisco, Gringos or Mexicans,” laughed Buster. “If you have a minute, we’ll explain what an MBA really is, but gimme your shot glass and let Ronny fill it just in case someone else walks up while we are talking.”
And so it goes when you are livin’ and dyin’ in ¾ time.