Hooters Girls or Margaritas?

Tonite we went to the best little hidden treasure of a restaurant--Pepe's Bosque--which is home to the best margaritas on the Gulf Coast. It was buyonegetonefreenite...aka?

Chelle's favorite nite of the week--well, that and the fact that it's Friday.

Anyway. After a dinner of Gulf Coast shrimp, chicken fajitas, quesadillas & a few margaritas for me, Leo went up to pay. This is where my big question comes into play. As he is trying to pay their credit machine is down. Leo and Bella decide to head to base to an ATM--Madelyn and I are there to finish my 'ritas and hang out one on one.

I am at the prime spot of their new restaurant--the back with a full view of everyone. I observed the ~21 year old group of guys with their crazy hair and t-shirts--they totally reminded me of friends that I had when I was that age. I had the families who would peek over at me probably wondering if I was going to be driving after the table  few glasses of empty 'ritas were on my table {for the record I never drink and drive. I was pregnant for 20 mos of my life--Leo has a few more months of being DD before I need to become the DD *wink*}.

And then they walked in. I nearly gagged on their cheap body spray/perfume drafting to the back of the restaurant where I was. They were dressed in their tight tops with "Hooters" splashed across the top. Their long hair and shitload a ton of cakey makeup to boot. To top it off their fake tans and crotch shorts were the icing on the cake.

They hugged the waiter and owner {hey, we got free shrimp--that's no hug, but we got free food--haha!} and sat in the table directly in front of ours. They didn't smile once. They didn't talk to one another. They ordered the skimpiest of meals and water with "loads" of lemon.

And then I noticed them. The table ordering round after round of 'ritas. Laughing, smiling and eating. I loved them at that instant. They were like "my people". I got them. Never mind that I had never spoken or uttered a single word to them in my life. I got them. They were like me. Love to laugh. Not intimidated for an instant of the calories that a margarita or a tortilla chip contained.

I glanced at the Hooters girls in front of me. One of them was eating salsa by the forkful. No talking No smiling. Lots of lemon.

It was there, in that moment, that I realized that I will never be one of them. I will always be the one smiling. Laughing. Drinking. And not counting my calories.

Which table would you be at? Honestly. If I were to look up would you be at the laughing/smiling table? Or the table counting the calories in their water with a "load" of lemon?