TIFU by taking my wife and four year old to a drag queen bar tifu

TIFU

This happened yesterday. This is not a throwaway.

My wife recently decided that our home was in dire need of some reasonably priced, Swedish made home goods. Alas, we live in a quiet American suburb, how can we possibly acquire home goods from the remote and exotic land of Sweden? Should we order online and pay for what must surely be ridiculous shipping fees? Do the indigenous tribes even have the internet? Should we book a safari? After extensive research online, we stumbled across a little known store named "Ikea" that specializes in just that and it happens to be located less than 10 miles from us (that's 40,000 kilometers for you European redditors). Holy shit! How lucky are we?!?!

So the weekend comes and we get out of the house with four year old in tow by 8:30 am (that's eight past midnight thirty for you European redditors). This, in and of itself, is a major accomplishment. Surely, the primitive Swedish gods are with us.

We arrive at "Ikea" and are not disappointed. A series of arrows lead us through a bizarre, winding Swedish maze of familiar, though oddly named, home goods. After spending $1,500 (that's €12 for you European redditors) purchasing what we came for and several dozen other home goods that we previously had no idea we needed, we were feeling pretty good about ourselves and it was still (just barely) morning. We then decided to treat ourselves to a victory lunch. There was a trendy area nearby we'd been meaning to check out with cool restaurants, clubs and such, so we went and explored. As we passed restaurants and cafés, we'd peek at the menu posted outside to see if there were any entrées we vegetarians could consume (plot point). This generally isn't difficult, but today it was for some reason. Had our luck run out? We were inside the very narrow 15 minute window between our four year old being slightly hungry and throwing an all out, scene making tantrum because he's starving. I was enjoying spending time with my family, but we needed to find some place fast or face the consequences. Here's where the fuck up happens.

We came across a quirky looking restaurant/bar that serves freshly prepared veggie burgers (not just microwaved freezer burned Boca Burgers). It's a bar in addition to being a restaurant, but hey, it's still early enough for it to be kid appropriate... right? Sure! Awesome! No time to spare, let's do it! A nice black bean burger would really hit the spot!

We seat ourselves in this largely empty establishment, and my wife excuses herself to go to the restroom. As soon as she leaves, I start looking around and noticing some rather offbeat decor, but me being no longer cool, just assumed it was the hipster equivalent of the shit they put on the wall at Applebee's. Whatever, I'm hungry.

Finally, our waitress comes to get our drink orders and give us menus. I couldn't help but notice that she was easily seven feet tall and had the build of a full size refrigerator and, without exaggeration, one of the most hideous women I've ever seen. Then I felt guilty for being judgemental and perpetuating patriarchal beauty norms. So anyway, I tell Shrek's ugly sister we'll wait to place drink orders until my wife returns from the restroom, but for now we'll have water. As the waitress leaves, I notice a full wall mural painted in homage to the movie Hairspray. I'm beginning to process this when suddenly I get a text message. Who the fuck is texting me? I look at my phone and it's from my wife stating, "We need to leave, now! Meet me outside quick!"

My wife is not one to behave in such a manner, so I knew something was amiss. I grabbed my kid and bolted for the door. As I scurry, a poster advertising "Drag Queen Bingo Night" catches my eye and everything becomes so very, very clear. I had taken my family out to eat at a fucking drag queen bar. I let the prospect of a black bean burger blind my judgement.

I'm no bigot. I'm quite accepting. Honestly, I don't give a shit what your sexual preferences are. As long as your not into children or animals, we're cool. Having to explain what drag queen, transgender or even gay means to my four year old however, is not something I'm ready for.

I meet my wife halfway down the street where we laugh about it and go find another restaurant. I'm a jackass. I will now associate black bean burgers with drag queens forever more.

TL;DR Mistakenly went into a drag queen bar with my wife and four year old looking for veggie burgers.

Submitted July 19, 2015 at 10:04PM by _korbendallas_ http://ift.tt/1HCSgtn tifu