Hola from Mexico

(there are several typos in this post that I can’t correct. Excuse me just this once.)

Hello from Mexico!!! We’re down here with all of James’ family for a week of catching up and memory making. Unlike my own family of origin, they all get along surprisingly well, especially with alcohol included. We’ve been here for 24 hours and havent experienced any water-born illness or robberies. So far, so good. Everyone back home was taking bets as to our safety and they likelihood of one of us returning to America with only one kidney. We’ve all watched one too many episodes of “Locked Up Abroad.”

On Friday, my friend Shannon told me about being robbed on her last vacation to Mexico.

“They stole everything there was to take out of our rental car…..cash, passports, credit cards. You name it! Ironically, the only thing they didn’t take was my Xanax,” she laughed.
I think it was sort of nice of them not to take the Xanax. I picture two Mexican thug-types raiding her rusty orange rental ’82 Datsun. Just as Felipe reaches for the Rite Aid bottle, the cosa finale of their robbery, “kind hearted Moises grabs his hand, saying “no, amigo, have some decency, man. with all her dinero and ID’s gone, Senioirita’s gonna need her drugs.”

I like to think there are nice thugs in the world.

“They also left a cheap pair of sunglasses in the driver’s seat, like that’s their calling card,” said Shannon.

“Not only do we know they were sort of decent people, but also there was a good chance they were ZZ Top fans.” Shannon wasn’t amused by my attempt at humor.

My friend Grant once told me that most career burglars leave some form of ID unique to them at their crime scenes, such as Shannon’s did. He said that when local offenders broke into his friend Sarah’s house stealing thousands worth of vintage jewelry, they left a large chocolate canolloni sized calling card bobbing in her toilet.

While my first question would be “what kind of person would add insult to injury by leaving their own excrement at the scene of their crime?” But an even bigger question that burns in my mind is “what kind of person can make themselves defecate on command like that?” It took half my childhood to prefect a simple burp on command. I cant imagine that kind of body function mastery. I think most people in that situation would have to schedule their burglaries around their digestive
habits, usually mid-morning, I’d presume. Or perhaps they bring a previously created one in a baggie to their robbery site. It’s difficult enough having to remember to bring all the various tools one would need to break into a house. Adding one more thing might be tricky. 

Upon reading back over that last paragraph, I’m realizing that this blog poste has veered far, far off track from the “hello from Mexico” theme I’d sat down to write.

So, anyway, it’s day two. We had a huge flash flood that sent everyone in the lobby to play games. The water tastes normal and the scenery is breath taking. However air conditioning hasn’t been invented yet. And unfortunately humidity has.

I’ve been happily using my Spanish on wait staff and life guards. No one seems to believe I was once a Spanish teacher. I think they’re just jealous.

W watched an episode of Phinneus and Ferb (the Mary McGuffin doll episode) its unsettling how their voices are all heavily dubbed over to sound like a cheap telenovela. Phinneus and Ferb, who on them show are around 10, sounded like Eric Estrada and Antonio Banderas. Don’t they have any Spanish child actors who can do voice overs?

Having to type on this iPad is making my fingers cramped. Plus I think I see a ray of sunshine finally.
I’ll write more later assuming I don’t get kidnapped by a Mexican drug lord.

Tomorrow we’ re going on a tour of Puerto Vallarta, complete with tequila factory. It’s a pity I forgot to pack a extra liver.

In reading back

This entry was posted in '82 Datsun, Burglars pooping in toilets, Puerto Vallarta, Tequila factory tour in Puerto Vallarta, Xanax, ZZ Top. Bookmark the permalink.

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