Mike and Faye called us to meet somewhere on the beach. We eventually agreed to meet at Tito’s.
As soon as Rosalie and I walked in, I knew we were in trouble. Mike and Faye were already sitting at a table always used by the same local Norteńos. As there was nobody else in the place, we weren’t too concerned. However, soon, somebody who usually sits at that table came in, glared at us, sat at another, unfamiliar-to-them table, and the staring game began.
The looks we got
Eventually, their table filled up and we started to be outnumbered. It was interesting to see the resentment in these people. There were whispers and accompanied glares but we ignored it all and ordered another round of drinks. We were having fun other than the feeling of burning hatred coming from across the room.
Us
Tito himself came in and gave us a friendly greeting which seemed to upset them even more. One old lady was blustering so much that she almost had her false teeth drop into her neighbour’s margarita. I was cheering the teeth on but they caught on her oxygen tube just in time and slipped back into her mouth.
If it came to a punch-up Mike said he would take the lady with the oxygen tank and I would get the guy with the walker, while the girls refreshed our drinks. If war started we had time for another drink as it would take them that amount of time to cross the room.
They had probably been sitting in the same place since 1974 and resented us sitting there now. How dare we! I bet it spoiled their whole week. Next time we go we have to be early so we can grab the same table and watch them stew. I’m so mean!
We are on nodding acquaintance with some of them but I expect we won’t get that little bit of respect from them anymore. Soon the word will go around town about upstarts sitting at the wrong table and we will have to go to Barra to get a quiet drink without all the harsh looks.