Alternate title: that time we went on a little tour of Canal Fulton and visited essentially just about every single restaurant in the entire town before we ended up here.

Sounds fun, no?

Let’s start from the beginning.

Shane’s original pick for the night was a place called Miller Doane Tavern. Which as we approached looked like it may be in a person’s actual house. But Shane said he vetted it online so we took his word for it.

Because that’s worked out well for us in the past, right?

As we got closer we realized the house we thought we were arriving at was actually a laundromat – not sure if that makes it any better? – but our destination was actually next door. And it seemed that there would be an issue with us dining there this evening given all the yellow tape crisscrossing the front door.

Because nothing says “join us for a meal” like some fire tape.

Shane, oblivious to the word FIRE on the yellow tape, says “there’s probably just another door we need to go in.”

Uh, no.

I mean, there WAS another door around the corner. So he was correct about that. But it was also covered in the same tape.

To close the CSI loop I’m sure you’re all invested in at this point, we discovered a social media post saying that due to a mechanical issue they would be closed for the day.

Well.

And here we are miles from civilization of any kind beyond the small town we were sitting in, so that leaves limited options.

But fortunately on the ride over Shane pronounced to us that he was “claiming” all of Canal Fulton because he had discovered a bunch of other possible picks during his search. Time to consult that list and bust those out.

So stop #2 was a place just around the corner called the Boat Lounge

Shane warned us he hadn’t totally vetted it, but we thought we would still give it a try. It appeared to be more of a summer destination, with what looked like a large patio out back and upstairs. But tonight summer hadn’t arrived yet, and there was one bartender and one person working at the grill, and a group of about eight 20-something’s that walked in not far ahead of us and were still ordering when we walked in.

Yeah, probably not a good sign. At least not for our desire for food anyway.

So Shane called an audible and said we would go to a place called Paolino’s Bar. He was “saving” that pick because they do burger nights on Wednesdays from May- Sept, so he wanted to wait to pick it then. But because we were at a loss, and didn’t want Shane to reach “I’ll eat my arm if I don’t eat something in the next 30 minutes” stage, we decided to go ahead with it knowing he could always pick it again as a revisit later.

So here we are at Stop #3.

And we deserve it apparently.

What exactly we deserve is still yet to be determined, though. Especially after our visit.

We were greeted by the bartender with a yell over to our table that we would need to come up to the bar to order. Ok then. Welcome!

So Ted goes up and gets a beer and asks for menus. She says that they don’t really have a kitchen, it’s more of a fryer and things come out as they’re done.

Translation: our food is going to come out one item at a (painfully slow) time. At that rate we might eat at about the same point in the evening as the place we just left. And that’s if no one else in the place is ordering food – which didn’t seem likely given the hearty group of regulars surrounding the bar, but also given our luck already on this particular evening seemed entirely plausible.

Yeah, we’ve played this game before. Not really wanting to get our last food item served to us at 10pm, we opted to have Ted chug his beer and go to stop #4, which was conveniently right next door.

And that’s the story of how we ended up at Margaritas Mexican Restaurant.

Shane: Hey guys, I’m so sorry I made us drive 40 minutes to eat at a Mexican restaurant when we have 47 of them in our own town.

Hey, at least it was an adventure.

And the fun doesn’t end there.

It wasn’t busy when we walked in, but did get busier over the course of time we were there. I guess that made us feel a bit better?

Or, it might’ve, had we not gotten the angriest server in the world to wait on us. He didn’t actually throw the chips and salsa at us as we sat down, but I have no doubt he was performing that very action in my mind as he set the bowls on the table. Fun!

Like I’m sorry you have to work – really – but also we’ve just been to three other places and it’s 7pm and we haven’t eaten, so do we want to play the game of who’s angrier?

He asked Ted what he wanted to drink and Ted ordered a beer. He then asked Shane the same question, which Shane wasn’t prepared to answer. So while he was deciding the server said he would go get Ted’s beer.

Um.

Apparently I’m invisible. Cool.

Please woman, let the menfolk order first. What year do you think it is?

He comes back with Ted’s beer – which was apparently only available in the largest glass known to man.

And then looks at Shane to inquire if he’s decided on a drink. Shane orders a margarita. And then we all pause to see if he will actually acknowledge me, or if I’ll have to wait until after the men finish their first round to have a voice.

Fortunately my invisibility shield must’ve fallen down a notch, because I was finally able to order. Rejoice!

I also got a margarita. Frozen. Which required him to use a blender, so I’m sure that just endeared me to him even more.

When it comes to the food, there’s really not much to say about our orders. It was your typical Mexican restaurant fare, nothing really amazing to point out or write home about. Certainly nothing to drive 40 minutes for, so I’m doubting a revisit will ever be in our future.

Shane and I got the nachos with steak as an appetizer.

Ted got the Texas fajita with shrimp and steak.

I ordered the karma burrito, but chose the option of having it made as a bowl instead of in a tortilla.

Shane referred to it as “slop,” which certainly makes it more appetizing, no? Although at this point in the evening I think you could’ve served me almost anything a s I would’ve at least tried to eat it just given my hunger level.

Shane got the “Burrito #51” – which I think had a more interesting name, but no one really seemed to remember it. Much like the majority of our visit.

Also note his empty drink in the background. Take a guess about how quickly our super unfriendly server came back to ask if he wanted another one? Or a water even? Apparently my invisibility transferred to him at some point in our meal.

So yeah. I mean, I guess if you’re in Canal Fulton and need food, well, this place serves it. Rather unfriendily, mind you, but still. And maybe don’t go for a girl’s night out, lest you wither away at the table completely unnoticed.

Picked by: Shane (although he would likely prefer we not remember that at all)