The husband and I went to a local Mexican place this weekend, expecting decent food with a beer or margarita. We try to frequent local places over chains, which, given where we live, is no easy task. We have just about every chain on the face of the earth within a 10-mile radius. I kid you not - name a chain, any chain, and it's probably in my backyard.
We walk into the restaurant and the decor is... questionable. Even for a Mexican place. Fake flowers, fake stucco... the works. We then proceed to wait 5 minues for someone to seat us. At this point, I kind of wondered about the place but talked myself out of it. We were both hungry and how bad could it be?
As it turns out, it was very bad. We left an hour and a flipping half later after being served a cheap ass beer instead of regular beer (those frat party college years yielded excellent taste buds to discriminate between Natty and Keystone and real beer), waiting half an hour to get our bill, almost throwing up from smelling the disgusting fajitas at the table next to us, and the husband being served a the most pitiful teeny tiny piece of brown avocado. And those are just the highlights!
Luckily, we don't have experiences like this often, and this time it was comical. But the next time I get a bad feeling about a place, I'm not going to apologize for high-tailing it out of there!

They have been sitting in my closet for a good long time now. They've moved with me from place to place to place. I do a decent job editing my clothes and getting rid of things I don't wear anymore, but I've kept these around with the goal of fitting into them again. I bought them in high school almost exactly 10 years ago when 

