The Dish on Tapas

I've never tasted Tapas in Spain, nor do I consider myself an undisputed expert on Spanish food, but I have not found any Tapas eateries that even come close to Cafe Madrid on Travis Street. Honestly, I'd like to find another one, just for variety. My most recent effort was dinner at Rouge. While the service was excellent, the food left a lot to be desired.

But it did get me thinking that my first taste of Tapas, years ago, was at Cafe Madrid. What if it had been at one of these other places? It would be entirely possible that I would be missing out on an entire culinary "genre" as well as the irresistable opportunities to tell people that I frequent Tapas Bars. (Said quickly enough, most people will hear something else.)

Fortunately for me, the Tapas Gods were watching over me.

The Last Kiss

This weekend, I saw the new Zach Braff movie, The Last Kiss. I think it was good. I say that because the complexities of the plot rang so true, that for 2 uninterrupted hours, I felt the entire span of harrowing emotions that arise from relationship struggles. It successfully reinforced every commitment-phobic and relationship-phobic instinct in me. In fact, I felt so devastated when I came out of the film, that I knew immediately that I don't EVER want to see it again. Or think too much about it.

I just can't figure out if that makes it a good movie or a bad movie..

Oh. um.. I meant congratulations!

Apparently, it's not only on TV that your first reaction to someone's happy announcement is to laugh until you realize that he/she is serious..

You catch more flies with honey and other secret weapons

Flies do not like vinegar. Also, belligerence is not the same thing as proaction. Tell that to the girl at the back of the line to claim the baggage that did NOT arrive with our flights, after a long day of cancelled flights, stand-by boarding passes and delayed take-offs and landings. She, thanks to her grating, LOUD bitching (which could probably be heard from wherever our baggage was) successfully goaded the airline representative who was at the moment, very professionally helping me with my baggage, into a full-scale altercation in which Loud Girl gets so red-faced and frenzied, that she turns to all of us (who just want to get our bags delivered) and says, "WHO HERE HAS BEEN DEALING WITH THIS INCOMPETENCE ALL DAY??" And what? She wants us to all raise our hands and spend more valuable time participating in some kind of demonstration against an employee who had nothing to do with the maintenance issues of the airplane in another city which started the whole chain of events? When the airline representative finally chooses to ignore Loud Girl and can return to assisting me (exhausted and frustrated, but patient and cooperative), guess who gets a rush put on her baggage delivery? Not Loud Girl, I'll tell you that. It didn't help that all afternoon, I had to listen to Loud Girl complain to everyone who would listen as well as to her husband on her 2 way radio.

Other often underestimated social tools in a frustrating situation:

Silence works a million times more effectively than words. Ranting vs. closed lips and meaningful one-eyebrow raise...

Speaking with a low volume, yet powerful voice gets results faster than strident yelling.

Of course, as soon as all parties are removed from the frustrating situation, all parties are encouraged to go to a really noisy (so you can scream as loud as possible) bar with friends for unrestrained bitching.