Novel & Cerita Casa Blanca Modern Mexican Tequila Bar Photos

he said with cheeky smile and pointing on top where entire bar menu was written. “Get me beer mixed with Tequila” I said without bothering him much “Ohh, that was fast, do you want anything to go with it” he further questioned leaning forward “No, just beer and Tequila” I replied with smile and took off my glares “Okay” he said showing all his teeth’s and neatly served me my chilled beer jug alongside super long Tequila shot and some spicy roasted peanuts on side I instantly emptied my Tequila shot in beer.. “Thanks” I said before picking up my jug and started gulping in one go…. I knew my liver was asking for it….

“Ladies, Gents, fangs, fairies and furries, today, our little trio of bar owners had a bit of a bet. It wasn’t that someone lost but the severity of the punishment.” I smiled as he continued. “The bet will remain a secret, however, the punishment was having to take shots of this.” He held up the bottle of tequila. “This is Monte Alban Mezcal or better known as the worm tequila. We have to take shots based on our…performance.”

I wanna be free of all kinds of earthy bonds. I entered the bar and shuffled my eyes through each corner. The lit blue bar counter parallels the deep azure of the early evening sky. A bold use of solid carved wooden bar stools, teak wooden floor boards, and teak wooden planks for the walls and ceiling, helps accent the blue of the bar and the vista seen through the large doorway that frames the outside. I asked one of the lackeys to serve me something strong.

Tomas: I’m outside, preciosa. My stomach flips again. McKenzy peeks over my shoulder. “He didn’t even text ‘here’ like a normal person. He’s so suave, it’s disgusting.” “It really is,” I agree, grabbing my clutch. She follows me to the kitchen, pouring two quick shots of tequila. “A new pre-dance tradition,” she declares, handing me one. I smirk, clinking my glass against hers. “To making Tomas sweat.” “To making Tomas suffer.”

I nodded, writing down what they needed before going to the next table. "Hi there." I smiled again. It was the table Christine had warned me about. They looked like southern Arabians, no..they looked more like barbarians, their haircuts were that of the ancient times..which got me wondering if they were robbers who earned a lot. "Less looking..more working." The one with the better face said and I gave out a short chuckle. "Three bottles of Tequila Paloma and two bottles of White Russian." I wrote their stuff down and was about to leave when the latter grabbed my hand and dropped something on the table I looked down to see that it was a picture.

Since no one wanted to risk making a mistake and embarrassing themselves, this time, only Samuel and Lucius dared to taste the wine. The hostess announced the final answer for this round: “This wine is a 50-year-old Tequila Ley. Congratulations to Young Master Hayes for guessing correctly. Unfortunately, Mr. Lucius Knight, your answer of ‘Chictra’ from Jalisco, was incorrect.” Upon hearing the name of the rare wine, the crowd erupted in excitement. Who hadn’t heard of the legendary Tequila? This luxurious bottle encrusted with 6,000 diamonds was indeed famous. No one could help but gasp in awe!

The Jalisco Cartel celebrations were a world of dangerous excess. The sprawling hacienda outside Guadalajara was alive with music, laughter, and the low hum of power. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over marble floors, long tables groaned under plates of mole, tacos, and aged tequila, and armed men in tailored suits watched from the shadows. Beautiful women in designer dresses moved through the crowd, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne, grilled meats, and raw danger.

I nodded, writing down what they needed before going to the next table. "Hi there." I smiled again. It was the table Christine had warned me about. They looked like southern Arabians, no..they looked more like barbarians, their haircuts were that of the ancient times..which got me wondering if they were robbers who earned a lot. "Less looking..more working." The one with the better face said and I gave out a short chuckle. "Three bottles of Tequila Paloma and two bottles of White Russian." I wrote their stuff down and was about to leave when the latter grabbed my hand and dropped something on the table which I looked down to see that it was a picture.

Tequila. Mr. Tequila was the cowboy-themed shot server roaming the club. He was a lean, well-built man in a leather vest, cowboy hat, tight jeans, and boots. Despite his wiry frame, his defined abs and muscular arms drew the eyes of many. Even guests who were not fond of tequila found themselves ordering. There was something captivating about him.

He'd go downstairs, check out the bar, and see what kind of stuff went on here at the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa. The patio overlooking the Gulf was also pretty jammed, but Zack managed to grab a small table in one corner. He'd barely settled in his seat before a waitress appeared. "Welcome to Casa Blanca," she said and handed him a gaily decorated drink menu folder. "We have some drink specials today you might want to check out before you order. On the other side is a list of local craft beers that we stock." "Yeah?" He flipped the card over. "And if you wait ten minutes, you'll be in happy hour, and you can have twice as much fun."