The Life and Times of a 6'1-" Guy in Mexico Day 1

July 9th 12:00 a.m.
I have to be at the airport in 5 and a half hours and everyone in my party is too drunk to drive me. Still, we continue to drink heavily.

3:oo a.m.
I can barely see, but the night is far from over, as we leave Pavlovs, we encounter a black man with a leaf blower in hand, some might describe him as a bum. At first we walk right past him, but after walking about halfway down the block I realize that this man said 15 dollars. Realizing that this deal on a high quality machinery was too good to pass up, I get my friends to throw in, and we walk back to the hype (a hype is a classification for a street vender for someone who is slightly higher on the social strata than a bum, because he is hustling something, usually stolen property). After seeing that this thing actually works, we give the hype the 15 bucks and walk off with our new toy. As we walk into Jungle Jims I am blowing everything in sight. I blow the security, I blow the 7 people inside, I blow the bartenders, I'm blowing all the cups over, I blow some girl directly in the face at close range, its like Hurricane Hugo has hit Jungle Jims. Even though I am causing massive chaos, I am still getting hooked up with free drinks because who is going to fuck with a guy with a power tool. After there was no further destruction to be done, we decide to leave to go terrorize other drinking establishments. So we walk down the street blowing everybody in sight, but as we near our destination, we run out of gas. When this happened, it seemed like the night had finally come to an end. We go to pita pit to get a snack, and I go back to get my luggage arriving just as my ride pulls up. The Fez drives me to the airport, and I stumble in and mumble to the desk clerk, Guuuadaaalajaaaaaaara.

I basically sleep the entire time of travel, except for the hour and a half I wasted by staying up to watch Jersey Girl on the plane ride to Guadalajara. When we get to Guadalajara we get to customs and I discover that while I was sleeping, I was supposed to fill out paperwork. So these people are asking me all these questions in Spanish, and I have no idea what is going on until some girl finally rescues me and gives me the forms and a pen. As we are leaving the airport, I meet my Spanish family, and we hug and do all that other crazy Mexican bullshit you do when you greet. As soon as I rest for one second, some mexican guy snatches my suitcase from me and starts walking off with it. I don't know if he's part of my family or just some random Mexican trying to jack my stuff. But I follow him because I have no idea where the fuck I am or where the fuck I am going. When we get to the car it turns out, that this guy wants money signaling to me that he is probably not a member of my party. So I give him all the money in my wallet which is something like 7 cents and get into the van. We drive around with this crazy mariachi shit playing, making random stops for who knows what, with everybody talking in Spanish. Then, Chimo, the driver and my spanish brother, says a word I finally understand: cerveza. I dont even want a cerveza because Im still feeling like shit from last night, but we stop at 3 different bodegas to buy different types of spanish beers, and everybody in the van starts drinking. Finally we get to the house, and choose rooms. There are 3 girls from California living in this house, and its a good thing there was because we would have no idea what to do if they werent there to explain things to us. They took us around the neighborhood and told us vital information like "don't eat tacos here, and buy your beer here." We would go out later that night to meet with the rest of the group of Californians. We would wait 45 minutes for a table for 25 people. I drank a lot of tequila that night, but not enough to get me to go out. I had too long of a day and was ready to finally go to bed.