EverRaven was summoned, Zordac drove the getaway car, and I called shotgun for every leg of the trip.
El Charro and the sexy, schmoove-talkin' manager, Julio, welcomed us to a cozy booth in the back. We all three supped from a single skillet of shrimp, steak, chicken and chorizo, delighted in multi-directed and interesting conversation, and distracted the waiter while EverRaven extracted her broken necklace beads from the darkest recesses of her underwear.
My unsurpassed shotgun-calling skills left EverRaven to the back seat, defending her own ass from the maniacal devices of the rabid ass-eating cheese left in the doggy-bag. Upon returning home, I stole all of her clothes, assaulted them with Spray-N-Wash, and we all watched Robin Williams "Live on Broadway". I still have a headache from laughing so hard.
We shoo-ed EverRaven out the front door with her nine pound bag of chocolate and good luck card, despite the desire to continue the lingering conversation. She will kick major booty on the bar, and thereafter her army will be great. Huzzah!