10757 Woodside Avenue
Santee, CA 92071
San Diego County
Phone: (619) 258-5557
Fax: (619) 258-0018
Website: Visit our websiteEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
Casa Picante Mexican Restaurant & Cantina - About Us
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by Jena S. on Wednesday night. Drinks with_____. He: a cute nerdy type with glasses from a place where it's hip to be square.... living in a locale to match Its not far from my place. Its not far from his. But yet I'd never heard of it. If you're not looking for it, you wouldn't know it was there. Let alone that it houses a live Jazz band on Wednesdays. A plus for a cute boy who already was... HE: Where do you know [friend from work] ME: A forum. HE: What kind of forum. ME: Um... There were cheap beers on tap... but you wouldn't think it by the taste. We grazed on pretzels and conversation. Of frustration over kittens... and then one walked by on the bar. The tailed version of course. It caught me off guard but it lightened up the mood. HE: So you said you looked this up rateclubs? ME: Yep. You passed on one part of it... you should know that you were being judged by your choice of establishments. rateclubs approved and so do I. A friend I hadn't seen in ages appeared out of nowhere. I did not question this boy's taste anymore. Fore these are friends with exceptional taste in establishments. We chatted some more. It was an extended introduction but there was something else... You know that moment when you're not sure if you're on a date with someone or if you're just making a new friend? You freeze up, not wanting to look the fool or impose on the other person's inclination...even though you'd be more than happy with either outcome? Well let's take away the freezing for now.... We both got another beer. A few texts were sent. ME: I'm not sure this is a date. We are at a jazz bar. BEST FRIEND: It's a date or he at least wants to sleep with you. ME: I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. You have to be wrong Mo. BEST FRIEND: When have I ever been wrong? HE: And your writing? ME: I'm writing a comic book series. I used to write on a blog more often and then I changed mediums. I write about my dating life on rateclubs. HE: So are you going to write about tonight? You know that moment when you're not sure if you're on a date with someone or if you're just making a new friend? You freeze up, not wanting to look the fool or impose on the other person's inclination...even though you'd be more than happy with either outcome? ME: I'm not sure. Is this a date? HE: No. No It's not a date. Chickenshit.
by Kelly S. on Last night was my first foray into the Clermont experience, and I'm still trying to wash the dead hooker smell off of myself. The floor is so sticky, it's like the La Brea tar pits up in that joint. I lost one shoe and the opposite sock in that muck. I'm sure they're in the process of becoming some sort of radioactive superheros (super villains?) by now. The quality of strippers did not disappoint, as there was one woman who was over 50, one "big-boned" girl, and one completely covered in tattoos. Another lit matches and stuck them in her nipple piercing holes and danced around. I understand the CDC has decided to culture various surfaces in there to see if there's any kind of new super-virus/bacteria/STD growing in that petrie dish they call a bar. Instead of peeing in the bathroom, I opted to walk 6 blocks to a porta-potty used by the homeless. The ATM fee is $5 or 10%, WHICHEVER IS GREATER, and the place is CASH ONLY. It's easier to cook the books that way. I'm not sure why this didn't occur to me before I went, so I had to pay it (or leave to find an ATM, and I'm way too lazy for that). They can suck my proverbial dick for that one (hence the loss of one star). In summary, I absolutely have to take everyone I know here (except for my parents).
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