Down in Mexico…
For my Christmas break I took a trip down into Mexico. Now I was naive, I seriously thought I was going to see sandy beaches, beautiful sunsets, and lots of gold, just like when Hernando Cortes conquered the place. So I gathered my fellow conquistadors and launched my invasion, but all I found was sandy old whores, over-hyped and under-sunny sunsets, and lots of silver that turns your skin green. Green like an ugly old witch green, not green like the ass-kicking Hulk green. Something went terribly wrong in the last 500 years, and I think it has something to do with not being invaded by the U.S. enough.
One of the first things I noticed when I set foot into Mexico is that everybody’s horn is attached to their break pedal. You know, like in the United States you push the button on your steering wheel to sound your horn, well in Mexico you push your break to sound your horn. It makes sense, the only reason they ever need to slow down is because some idiot cut them off. If you are walking and get in their way, forget it. You are dead. You won’t even leave a dent or stain on their vehicle.
Down there cabbies are viewed the same way lawyers are viewed in the U.S.: they are blood-sucking money-loving idiots who are holding down the rest of society. The difference is that lawyers spend time in courthouses and expensive houses while cabbies spend time on the streets slowing down traffic for a quick buck. Cabbies are also quite vicious animals, like their lawyer counterpart. If you throw a tourist out on the street and shout out “CAB!” that tourist will disappear in a chaotic moment of squealing tires and exhaust smoke. Usually left behind will be the rusted metal carcases of a few cabbie vehicles unfortunate enough not to get to the tourist fast enough. You can sell them to a scrap metal yard for quite a good price.
Another thing that overwhelmed me in Mexico were all the vendors. Now there is nothing wrong with trying to sell stuff for a living, I’m just not particularly interested in getting a tattoo from some street guy who has probably used the same needle for the last people. There were also all the people who try and sell you homemade crafts. I’m not quite sure what I would do with a wooden whistle thing that has a rather annoying pitch. No, like printing money, I can make that kind of crap at home.
What I couldn’t make at home is the silver jewelery that the street vendors sell. I am talking about a lot of silver, pounds and pounds of it. Where did they get all that silver? My first thought was that they buy the silver, but then if they could buy that much silver wouldn’t they buy some decent clothes too? Do they steal it? Nah, it would be higher quality, and would be treated so it wouldn’t turn your skin green. So I asked one, in my stuttering Spanish. She said God gave it to her. God dammit. While He is the business of handing stuff out for free, how about landing a Porsche in my driveway? So to spite God I didn’t buy any silver from the street vendors. I know, I know, I’m going to hell.
But not everything about Mexico is bad. For example, I ordered a margarita and wasn’t even carded. Where is that kind of respect in the United States? If I tried to order any type of alcoholic beverage I would be thrown out on the street. And rightly so as I am under age, but that is beside the point.
Another thing I loved about Mexico was how much it tries to be like America. Or at least it was that way with the tourist towns I was in. I pulled into one town and the first thing I saw was a Wal-Mart, Costco, and Best Buy side by side. There was also a mall large enough to contend with most major city malls here in the states, and it was filled with the same stores that you would find in America. American Eagle, Aeropostle, Hot Topic, and the rest of that stupid crap. It would be just like home if everything wasn’t in Spanish (oh wait, everything at home is in Spanish, the English signs are translated).
One last thing to love about Mexico. It is warm. I’m sitting in three feet of snow, and I miss the 70°F temperatures. Of course, being at a beach resort in warm weather leads to great viewing pleasure.
