Thursday, May 22, 2008

On Vacation

About a month ago, I had the good fortune to take a trip to Mexico.  I spent two weeks driving around Northern Mexico by myself.  Luckily my Spanish is good enough to make traveling alone in Mexico a possiblity.  So after a few days with my family, I was ready for some adventures and they were lurking just around the corner.  I got into a perfectly preserved colonial town called Alamos.  It was the kind of town that you see on travel shows; the people are friendly, the streets are easy to navigate, there's something great to look at on every street and the citizens happily mingle with tourists.  

So in this beautiful setting, I found myself desperately looking for someplace to hide from the scorching heat.  I had already talked to the cute tourism information guy for longer than I wanted to but his office was air conditioned and there was cold water.  And I couldn't drink any more beer in the park- I looked like a degenerate alcoholic.  A small note about drinking in Mexico and most of Latin America.  Once you get out of the areas that cater to drunk Americans, you don't see women drinking on the street or in bars.  The only kind of women that are in bars are the kind you pay for.  So in my quest to find someplace away from the sun - it was 106 degrees-I walked past a bar with  music coming out of it.  Since I know I couldn't look any worse than I did drinking beer in the park, I entered the bar.

As I walked in, I was greeted by a sea of men wearing cowboy hats.  It felt like everyone looked up at once when I walked in.  And everyone watched me walk over to the bar and order a drink. As I sat at a table, I realized I'd walked into the Mexican equivalent of "Bob's Country Bunker" from the original Blues Brothers movie.  They had the requisite taxidermy animals on the walls, people spitting on the floor and a crappy band playing Banda music.  Most of the crowd was drunk and this place only served beer.  It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon!   Clearly some of these people had tequila for breakfast.  There were two other women in the bar- one I'm positive had been a man before and the other one was really fat and not wearing enough clothes to cover her gut or varicose veins.  

As I sat by myself drinking a beer, every drunk guy in the place felt like the thing to do was come by and talk to me.  It was like being on the worse dating game ever.  Thankfully some old guy next to me bought me another drink and didn't try to talk to me.  While sitting there, I decided to check out the band.  As I looked at the band, I noticed that the bass player was very cute.  I immediately decided to stick around until the band took a break so I could talk to the bass player.  I'm on vacation, shouldn't I be throwing myself at some two-bit musician?

So the band goes on a break and I walk up to the bass player and introduce myself.  He looks young but he's cute, so I'm over it.  We talk a little bit and he tells me to come back around 6pm when the band will be done.  So I went back to my hotel to take a shower and a nap.  I wake up from my nap at 7:30 and decide that hooking up with the bass player wasn't meant to be.  So I get dressed and go out to get two tacos and a beer- the perfect Mexican meal.  While I'm looking for my tacos, I hear someone call my name. It's the bass player.  

He invites me to join him and his friend.  They're driving out to a look out point in the city. Against my better judgement, I get in the mini-van with them.  About five minutes into the ride, I start thinking about how this is clearly the worst decision I've ever made and I will probably not make it out of this situation.  But the bass player is kind of drunk and keeping trying to make out with me.  He tells his friend to take us back to my hotel.  

We go back to my hotel room and the bass player proceeds to throw himself at me.  I ask him how old he is.  He says 20.  I ask him if he knows how old I am, he's say 40.  I'm quick to point out I'm not 40.  I ask him again how old he is, he says 25.  I figure he's probably 20 but he's already in my room, so I say fuck it.  He's fighting me about using a condom.  He says he doesn't have anything and I say me neither but I don't know what you've been doing up until this point. But I know what I've been doing up until that point and it's in everyone's best interest to use condoms.  We then proceed to have the most unsatisfying, stupid, uninspired sex ever.  In the middle of it, I start thinking that if I'd gotten my two tacos, I would be more satisfied.  Now I'm trying to find the words to tell him to finish up and get out.  I can't tell him he sucks at this or that I want to get tacos instead of having sex with him.  

He finally finishes up and I immediately start getting dressed.  While we're having awkward post sex conversation, the bass player tells me that he's 19 years old.  I kind of freak out.  This kid is half my age!  And while he's "of age", I don't want to be having sex with teenagers.  So while I'm having a mini freak out, the bass player is still talking.  I have no idea what he's saying because all I can think is: I should have gotten those tacos and when is he leaving?  I tell him he has to leave.  I walk him out of the hotel and he asks me when will he see me again.  What?!  I don't want that crappy sex again.  I tell him probably never-I'm leaving town the next day.  He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.  And then whispers into my ear- I'm really only 18!

I go back to my room to try and shake off what I'd just heard.  And then it hits me, that bass player was probably only 17 years old.  Damn!  I didn't want to go on vacation and become a child molester.  So now I require ID every time I meet someone who looks young.    


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