It all started with brunch at the Border Café, a no-longer-extant, Tex-Mex restaurant on the Upper West Side. The draw was not the huevos rancheros, however; it was the free, unlimited Bloody Marys*, margaritas, mimosas and Santa Fe Slushes. We thoroughly overstayed our welcome, by a couple of hours, to take full advantage of the drink offer and draw questionable pictures and slogans on the table-top butcher paper with the crayons they leave out for kids.
The conversation turned to the name of the restaurant and a discussion of borders. The group having established that the closest one was with Canada, one diner volunteered, “I have a car!” at which point the one woman with us quickly bowed out.