I'm chillin' at a Super8 Motel in Jackson. Just a few doors south is an okay Mexican place called Mambo's. The food was edible (nothing to brag too loud about), but the staff was friendly, and it's something of a joint, and that's my kind of place.
A baby was banging on a table, a toddler was running around, and construction workers were grabbing a drink and takeout before going home -- perfect for a woman eating alone in a strange neighborhood.
On the top shelf at the bar is a tequila called Hornitos, which I find a little frightening. I declined to try it.
The brother could be doing better. I'm working on that.
UPDATE: "Hornitos" are actually agave ovens, according to the site. You explain that to the frat boys.