this blog

The ramblings and observations of a kidney transplant recipient, although not necessarily for that reason.

probably smarter than me
book i'm reading
A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole (recommended by Killer)
awards
Blog Of The Day Awards Winner
From Hell To Hell and Back to Hell and Back Home Again (Part Quatro)
Friday, September 22, 2006

A bucket of beers at the pool later, I finally got my room. It was nicer than I thought based on everything I had seen so far. Everything looked clean, it was larger than I imagined, there was bar in it, a view of the beach, the TV worked and had American programming.....BUT....the bathroom, not as clean.....um....ok....I'll just wear flip flops when I shower.

A six pack of beer would usually be enough to give me a good buzz, but not in Mexico. It seems that they don't really understand what the % symbol means in that country, because while it shows a typical number of alcohol % by volume on each Corona bottles there, you can typically drink about 1000 more than in the USA without puking. With almost no sign of a good buzz, I laid down on the bed to watch the latest episode of "Amigos!". The one where Rachel monkey-sits Marcel and loses him and Ross can only respond with "Aye Carumba! No puedo creer que usted perdió a mi mono!" It all ALMOST works out when they find Marcel in Mr. Heckles apartment, convince animal control not to take him away, and Rachel and Ross happily continue back on their path towards love until Barry bursts into the apartment and announces "Rachel, todavía le amo!" spoiling their hopes of being together, for now. I drift off.

Randy calls me to let me know that cabs are picking us up for dinner in town and after we would walk over to Papas and Beer which should be "off the hook". I shower (careful not to touch the tile walls), get dressed and head downstairs. By now, members of the families were arriving. I was introduced to, and then immediately forgot the names of, several of Elena's and Randy's relatives. Steve and I split another bucket of beer at the pool until it was time leave for downtown Rosarito. Introvert that I am, I managed to keep the handshakes to a minimum. I was really looking forward to getting this part of my trip over with. I wanted to get on to the next leg of my vacation where I would be hanging out with friends I really care about in a part of Mexico I would rather be in, fishing and drinking and eating cheap lobster. But for now, its off to downtown Rosarito.

Dinner was unexciting. Surprisingly enough we ate Mexican food and believe me you can get Mexican food just as authentic all over California, so it wasn't any new experience for anyone at the table. It was a co-ed celebration with both sides of the bridal party in attendance, at least the ones that had made it to Mexico so far. Randy and Elena were on and off their cell phones the entire time helping to resolve transportation issues for people who were trying to get to the wedding. The biggest issue so far was that the maid of honor had no way to get there. Apparently the day before she and her boyfriend were supposed to drive down, he broke up with her, leaving her with no ride to Mexico. Nice timing, dude.

After dinner we walked over to Papas and Beer. I was actually excited to see it. It was the first thing I was excited about since 9/11. I had been to Papas and Beer in Ensenada, but its nothing like the one in Rosarito, the original. Ensenada's is not built on the beach and is much smaller, but is a fun place for people to hang out for 4 hours while in port off their Princess Cruise Line 4-day boat trip from LA. While having a blast in Ensenada it was not uncommon to hear from other partiers, "You think this place is fun? You should go to the one in Rosarito! WOOO!" So, this was the part of Rosarito I was most looking forward to.

I had no idea how big this place really was. You walk through the doors and there is bar to your left, a bar to your right, a bunch of tables, stools, fire pits, and then about football field's worth of beach dance floor. It is completely walled in, its not really open beach to the water, but there is no roof over most of it, so it has a very open, outdoorsy feel to it. Along each wall are multi-level stages to dance on and overhead there are multiple catwalks going in different directions to dance on and observe from. Just when you think "OH MY GOD THIS PLACE IS FUCKING HUGE", you realize you've only seen the front half of it. On the back side of the South bar, there is another whole football field's worth of beach, stages, fire pits. Papas and Beer in Rosarito, on a regular weekend, has about 5000 screaming college kids from San Diego partying their asses off. Its the spring break location for kids in San Diego that couldn't afford to travel to Ft. Lauderdale. However, this was not a regular weekend. This was a weekend in which people were afraid to leave the US. A simple drive across the border was both terrifying and inappropriate the weekend after the tragedy.

There were about 10 of us in our party. Including us there were about 30 people in Papas and Beer. Being thirty people in a 50,000 square foot dance club feels like being 30 ants in a gymnasium. A gymnasium with really loud music. I found, you can really only be entertained by your friends (loose term still) and a couple buckets of beer for a short mount of time, when you're hoping that at any moment the Girls Gone Wild bus will show up followed by 400 girls in bikinis. You're thinking, "Man if that would just happen, the guy to girl ration would be INSANE!" Sadly, that didn't happen. All we could really do is walk around and be impressed by the size of this place, look at the empty stages and catwalks, and dream of what it must be like when this place is full. Then hope that the four female Physical Ed majors (cheerleaders), that made the mistake of thinking they wouldn't be the only ones at their schools driving down for a long weekend of sin, will get back up on the bar and dance like strippers, just like they did when Girls by Beastie Boys was playing. Sadly, they never did and we left.

The men and the women in our party decided to split ways. After the women got in cabs, the men came to quick consensus to head across the street to the strip club. I don't know if you've ever been in an customer-poor strip club, but you can lose a lot of money when 25 strippers are trying to empty the wallets of only 7 lonely men. I had previously experienced this phenomenon in Vegas once, and decided to skip the strip club and head back to the hotel, dejected about my Papas and Beer experience and the night in general. Hopefully there would be an episode of Amigos on where I got to hear Ross exclaim "Estábamos en un resto!"
posted by othur-me @ 1:01 PM  
1 Comments:
  • At 6:41 PM, Blogger Killer said…

    How could you pass up a chance to go to a Mexican strip club with a male/female ratio of 1 to 3. That could make the STD ration go through the roof.

     
Post a Comment
<< Home
 
about me
Name: othur-me
Home: San Francisco-ish, California, United States
About Me:
See my complete profile
so good the first time
old stuff
powered by


BLOGGER

© 2005 Immuno-(im?)(de?)(sup?)pressed Template by jester.