Meet The Mayors: Chili's

[Disclaimer: Papyrus is such a joke. So is this post.] It's been awhile, but we're back with a new edition of Meet The Mayors! This week, we investigate a place no man*, mayor (on Foursquare, for all you rock-dwellers out there) or Penn student** has ever gone before: Chili's. The mayor in question is Lance B., a 32-year old ex-artist and LPS student from Laurel, MS.

*This is a lie. **This probably isn't.

UTB: What's your favorite part about being mayor of Chili's? LB: I'm more than a mayor. I'm the birthday boy. I leave every meal with a joyless serenade (to which I occasionally harmonize) from the waitstaff and a face full of whipped cream. It's exactly how I envision my wedding, except better--my Quesadilla Explosion Salad doesn't mind if I'm the little spoon. 

UTB: Describe your typical decision-making process when looking at the menu. LB: It's all about changing up the routine. If I had Shrimp Tacos yesterday, maybe I'll go for Texas Cheese Fries today. There are 1,734 possible combinations of apps, tray-trays and 'zerts (you watch Parks And Rec, right?). I've had the pleasure of experiencing 1,254.

UTB: What's one thing every Chili's-goer should know? LB: Those Sweet Shots will get you fat, not drunk (looking at you, Kirstie).

UTB: Okay, we've got to ask: Fried Cheese or Loaded Potato Skins? LB: I want my baby back baby back baby back ribs! With barbecue sauce.

UTB: How do you think this mayorship will affect your future? LB: I should reach all 1,734 combos by next May, and then...well, you know how they say the sky is the limit? I'm  a maverick--a space cowboy, if you will. My friend Justin and I really want to start an A*Teens cover band, so that'll probably be my next work-related commitment. Chili's will always have a place in my large intestine.

UTB: Last question. Chili's, Applebee's and T.G.I. Friday's are in a mud wrestling match. Who kicks whose ass, and why? LB: Okay, so T.G.I. is bringin' it with its sludge-y Spinach & Artichoke Dip, which eventually throws Applebee's' wimpy, boneless Buffalo Wings to the ground. Chili's whips out its Southwestern Eggroll nunchucks and--BAM--everyone else is chop suey. And then I celebrate at Atlantis.