The Macaroni Grill

I have a couple of lingering birthday stories to share this week, so today I will tell you about The Macaroni Grill.



Since two of my last five birthdays have been spent pregnant, I think I was trying to make up for it this year. I went out one night last week to celebrate with Amy and Heather, and we decided on The Macaroni Grill. Love that place!! Anyway, Heather and I were planning to split a bottle of wine. Since Amy has a baby due March 13, she was not partaking in our little drink-fest.

Well, at Macaroni Grill, if you order their house wine, they bring the whole (liter-sized) bottle to the table, and you pay by the glass. You just mark down each time you have a glass, and they total it up at the end. So we ordered a big-ass bottle of chianti, and we were ready to get started.

At first we did pretty well, and only had a couple of glasses. Then, they brought us a free dessert for my birthday and sang Happy Birthday in operatic Italian. That called for one more half glass of wine. Woo hoo. After that, we were ready to pay the bill. Right then, Heather’s husband, Jim (from here on out to be known as BL), showed up. I’m sure you remember her husband from my blogs about “The Wedding.”

Anyway, we realized we were more tipsy than we thought when we started commenting on Amy’s track record with birthday presents. The woman at the table next to me was telling me how cool my gifts were. And I said, “Yes, they did really well this year.” BL said, “As opposed to?”

And I said, “Oh please don’t make me refer to the birthday we shall just call ‘the quesadilla maker incident.’” BL’s response? “A quesadilla maker? Isn’t that a spatula?”

Exactly.

That pretty much did it for Amy, and she was out the door, flipping us off the whole way . . . with love. At that point, BL decided to have his dinner. Well, we couldn’t just sit there and watch him eat, right? So, Heather and I kept drinking the wine.

I think I knew I was basically screwed when I was attempting to shove the cork back in the bottle and it flew across the room, attracting the attention of near-by tables. This also drew comments from people wishing me a happy birthday, since they had heard the singing and seen me opening the fun gifts.

I flagged down the waitress to tell her we owed her money for more wine, and she just smiled and said, “Happy Birthday.” Dude! Free wine! Free chocolate cake! Macaroni Grill kicks ass!

Of course they were probably glad to see me leave. In addition to pelting people with wine corks, I have a loud laugh that tends to carry. At least I admit it. I know I’m loud. It also didn’t help that I was passing out my business cards for Passion Parties on the way out the door.