Attack of the Killer Tomato

I went out on Saturday night. Yup, that's right. The witching hour of 8:15pm came around and I met up with another Mom friend of mine for a drink. We met at a local chain restaurant and we sat in the bar area. We chatted and since my days of Long Island Ice Teas are over and I never have liked beer, I decided to enjoy a nice fruity Strawberry Daiquiri. My friend ordered the same and soon, two long skinny glasses of a red, icy concoction was brought to us.

My friend took a drink with the waiter still there and a look of complete disgust washed over her face. It took a couple of seconds to compose herself when she finally said "Tomato!" I took a small sip of mine and a rush of chopped ice, liquor and then a distinct, eye crossing taste of tomato juice. "Oh yea, tomato!"

He rushed the drinks back to the bar and I saw the bartender hold up a red plastic bottle - it was clear that it was not clearly labeled at all. We had a very long laugh about it. But let me tell you how horribly disgusting that tasted. Even the small little sip that I had left just a horrendous after taste. I love tomatoes but I hate tomato juice/soup so this was just not a good, unique drink.

My friend and I enjoyed some Mommy talk. She has a son about a month younger then The Girl. It's always interesting to compare notes! He's a great talker - much more advanced then The Girl (but I'm okay with that!). He also never has a tantrum (not so okay with that!). We also had some non-Mommy talk which was nice too. Our husbands are very similar politically so it was nice having a talk without our intelligent and overly passionate counterparts dominating the conversation.

At the end of the evening, after we both enjoyed a mini dessert (mini crème bruelee for me) we were both rather pissed that we were comp'ed anything off the bill. Come on, it was a freaking tomato daiquiri - I deserved a free dessert or something.