The night I sucked some guy's Lollypop in the bathroom

One of the fine things about living in America is the overwhelming abundance of Mexican restaurants available in any given town. In Pocatello we have at least five or six I can count off the top of me head. Hell, we even have guys who drive around in a bus and serve Mexican food. How fabulous is that? Conversely, one of the downsides of Europe is the paucity of Mexican places. Normally this isn't a problem, as you can go to any one of hundreds of restaurants serving food from places spanning the globe; however, it does make things a bit dicey when you actually want Mexican chow.

Last night a group of the Master's students from the International Relations club and the Business Administration club got together for a dinner and decided beforehand on Mexican, and we knew of only one place, Chiquito. By American standards, it is a pretty ordinary place, sort of a cross between Chilli's and Applebee's. But what is hilarious about it is that it reveals how unfamiliar with Mexican food the Brits are; so much so, in fact, that the people at Chiquito feel the need to make their literature phonetic. Take the menu for instance (available at their website). Quesadillas are listed first by their proper name and are immediately followed by this bit of helpfulness: ke-sa-diya. And paella, unless my Spanish lessons are wholly failing me, wrongly appears as pie-ella. It's like the whole thing is Spanish by way of George W. Bush. "I've heard rumors on the internets about this Mexican, uh, pee-layla y'all are offering. Now, I've been spent all day clearing brush during my two-month long vacation, so I've got a mighty hunger, so I'll take that plus some, um, koo-see-drillers."

Best of all, the website navigation at the left offers a choice of destinations, and in an effort to add a touch of authenticity to the proceedings, when you roll your cursor over the options, they magically turn to Spanish! Hooray! So go ahead, check out their site and one is "What's Happening" (sic), I'll wait. Notice anything? That's right, it becomes Kpassa, which looks more like a Norwegian word than anything Spanish. I think maybe they meant "que pasa", but who knows. But in the spirit of cooperation, I've decided to lend a bit of assistance in the realm of pronunciation, just in case they are interested: Chiquito's Corporation (pronounced REE-tahrds).

After drinking a few sodas during the course of my meal, I needed to use the restrooms, and entered a clownish colored men's room. The thing you need to know about larger clubs and restaurants in London is that they are always staffed by an attendant. I'd like to think that this is a holdover from a more civilized and genteel era of British culture, when you could see gentlemen going to the market in their fine linen suits wearing hats and strutting about with canes. Like I said, I'd like to think that, but the reality is that the attendants are there to prevent people from snorting coke. (Incidentally, my friend works at a bar in London that has no bathroom attendants, and his place of employment is notorious as a place to get coked up before heading to the nearby clubs.)

The usual routine with these blokes is that they turn on the water in the sink for you, perhaps pump some soap into your hands, and pull out some paper towels for you. Afterwards, they have an array of colognes and lotions available for your use, and payment isn't required, although they do have a tip plate in case you are feeling generous. Chiquito's restroom, I must say, had a large place with an assortment of gums and Chupa Chups lollipops, something I hadn't seen before elsewhere. (Again, allow me to digress for a moment. Go to the Chupa Chups webpage, and I think you will see that it was designed by pedophiles. Why, you ask? Well, Jesus, they have a picture of a seven year old girl with the phrase "Sucking is good for you! Find out why!" right next to her! Jimminy Crickets! I can easily imagine the people at the Chupa Chups company saying that to some little girl on the sidewalk near a playground as they hang out the window of their car, trying to tempt them inside. Creepy.)

Back on topic...while in the bathroom, I think I got confused and panicky. The walls were too colorful and distracting for one thing, and the attendant was there operating the faucets for me. Yes, I did say faucets; another of the British bathroom charms is that the hot and cold water comes from two taps, one so Satanically hot it is useless, meaning you wash your hands in arctic cold water. So there I was trying to wash my hands and avoid the hot water output, all the while looking at the lotions and colognes trying to figure which, if any, I wanted. Then some blue towels were jammed in my face, and I saw all the colors of the plate of Chupa Chups, so without thinking I grabbed one, unwrapped it, and put it in my mouth.

It wasn't until I got back to the table that I started to think that taking food items from a busy and not overly-clean bathroom is likely not the wisest course of action. As a matter of fact, it is rather a foul proposition. At best I can plead insanity in my defense, since I wasn't even drinking alcohol with dinner. So, yes, I did suck some guy's lolly in the bathroom, and it was revolting.