Ric's, Continued

As I write this, I'm back at Ric's having some of the very best nachos ever and washing it down with a VB. I know I've mentioned this place before, but I'm running out of blog material so I had to come here to get inspired.

This place is a shady crossroads of U.S. military, backpackers, mercenaries and contractors with a mix of Philipino-inspired Mexican fare, burgers and steaks. In the last twenty minutes, the music loop over the stereo has been Lynard Skynard, some techno-version of a Cher song, Garth Brooks, an indecipherable Asian dance tune and CCR. NBA highlights on the several big screens, guy across from me carving something into the table with a buck knife. Hard charger getting friendly with what looks like a Russian hooker in the glow of a Miller Light sign in the corner. Wait'll he gets the bill.

Its dark and smoky in here and it smells like beer mold. The walls are covered with flags, mostly from the Coalition of the Willing - and Texas, and one big black one with a skull-dude with a knife in his mouth that says "surrender the booty," and one with a dragon doing something really bizarre to a centaur. Lots of grafitti too - can't repeat most of it since this is a family blog, but some artwork near me is from a Major Hughes who hunts IEDs and says, "enjoy life to the fullest and go with a bang!!" Another gives sage advice: "never leapfrog a unicorn." Friggin brilliant - must be Army.

If the dude's remains weren't distilling in a six-foot hole, I'd expect Hunter S. Thompson to fall through the door any second. They could really use Patrick Swayze with his mullett and a chain-smoking Sam Elliott working the door here too.