Confession time… I am a parrot-head. I can often be found fantasizing about leaving everything behind, getting a small houseboat and sailing the coast of Mexico selling tacos to tourists and soaking in the sun. Maybe that’s what retirement looks like for me. Lord knows Jimmy Buffett make it look easy. Anyhow, when I heard they were opening up a Margaritaville location here in Glendale, Arizona to go with our new fancy stadiums I got excited. I had been to the Margaritaville location in Orlando and LOVED it. The atmosphere was fun and relaxed. The food was phenomenal. The service was perfect. My best friend had the same experience in Vegas so of course when one opened up just miles from my home I was ecstatic! After a lot of missed dates and great anticipation, we finally got together for lunch at the Glendale Margaritaville on a beautiful sunny Sunday morning.

It was tragic.. like watching your favorite dessert fall on the floor. Our bloody mary’s were mildly flavored tomato juice. Our service was slow and inattentive. Our food was mediocre at best. And to make it worse, they had some kind of loud horn that would go off every 15 minutes or so causing the baby at the next table to scream incessantly. I can understand if that horn added to the nightlife party atmosphere during their peak periods, but you would think on a Sunday morning when the weather is beautiful and the patio filled with quiet conversations and playful families that they would have the sense to turn the damned thing off. All in all my best friend summed up the visit as follows: “Trendy, cookie cutter, corporate atmosphere. High priced food that wasn’t worth it.”

Jimmy… you let this pirate down.