Let's get this out of the way: I was totally taco-blocked at the Queen Mary last night.
After standing in line for the better part of an hour, my haunt companion and I were super stoked for our turn at the taco bar. We were downing cocktails and rubbing elbows with the Captain. Those tacos were ours and we knew it. We were sure of it.
Alas, our taco dreams were dashed when we were unceremoniously denied in no uncertain terms. Why? Who knows! Did we ask? You bet! But no one seemed to have any information on this diabolical taco moratorium - only that it was to be strictly and immediately enforced. All I know for sure is that when we were mere steps away from our treats, we were tricked instead.
Deprived of my promised Mexican feast, I let out an insane roar of pure hanger and flipped the table, sending beans and tortillas sailing over the railing and into the inky black of the harbor below before leading my fellow Halloween bloggers on an anarchic rampage through the RIP Lounge, which we left in smoldering tatters, our final act of revenge.
Just kidding. My friend and I went and paid for food at the Muertos Morsels booth.
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| Spotted when we first entered the haunt, when we still believed we lived in a just and fair world in which "free tacos" were more than just an empty promise. |
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| The "I Scream" booth. Absolutely adorable, but they were sold out of chocolate soft serve! And it was like 8:30 on opening night! |
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| These swings from Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch certainly have stories to tell. |
With the great Taco Debacle safely in our rearview, our bellies blessedly full of nachos and quesadillas, we could finally begin our evening in earnest.
