On the Border in Miami. 30 minutes to get a damn quesadilla, and when that came out, it was, well, let's say, way past the point of "well done." It was charred, is what I'm saying. Now, I like my steaks well done, but for them to think I'd ever eat that piece of charcoal is absurd.
No, I'm not exaggerating, it really was black as charcoal.
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Let's go Mavs!
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