Mexico: Jerk Birds, Strip Clubs & Sake. Oh my!

One of our first nights at the resort was spent exploring (it is unfair for you to assume I can keep track of the nights considering a drink was in at least one of my hands during almost every hour of every day). It was a bit maze-like and you can easily find yourself asking "how the hell did we end up here? And where the hell is here anyway?" We heard some music coming from somewhere, so we kinda bumbled toward the sound. We turned a corner, and all we see through a small doorway is a half-naked group of girls that moderately resemble the Pussycat Dolls.

Dave's response to the sight: Did we just find the strip club?!!

We would too. If ever there were a couple of maniacs to randomly stumble upon a strip club in the damn middle of a foreign country, it would totally be us. So, instinctively, we wiggled our way to the doorway to peek inside to see exactly what the hell was actually going on.

Not a strip club... but rather a mock performance by 5 mediocre Mexican girls. The "lead singer" did resemble the real PCD lead but the dancing was atrocious. They were all sloppy and droopy and off beat. Ugh. I could have done a much better job. And the thought did briefly cross my mind to march my tipsy ass up to the stage and push little miss "PCD Nicole" out of the way. After the bad rendition of the PCD group, oddly enough, a Michael Jackson rendition came on, which of course, turned out to be quite eery since he passed away the day after we saw the little skit. Weird, huh?

The following day, we relaxed out by the Snack Bar Pool and we happened to be sitting close to the cabana that housed all the yum-yums. Little did we know, this cabana belonged to a bird. A very angry, aggressive, pissed off bird. After reviewing his jerk-like characteristics, I appropriately named the little asshole none other than Jerk Bird. Man, Jerk Bird was If you were a bird, and you got anywhere near him, or his cabana, or any of the tables near his cabana, he would fly straight at you, get right up next to you, puff up, scream and flap his giant puffy wings until you got the hell out of his space. Jerk Bird was quite the jerk, indeed. And he had a very particular schedule. He'd fly in around 8:00 AM to clock in and he'd leave later in the day around 6:00 PM. Seriously. Mexico apparently hired the meanest crow (or something resembling a crow) they could find to watch over the Snack Bar to ensure no other bird came anywhere close. Oh, Jerk Bird. He was there everyday too. Occasionally, he'd take a break and hang out next to the pool and wiggle around in the water to take a bath. And on really special days, he'd poop in the pool right after he was done with that bath. Nice guy, huh? I bet Jerk Bird started Bird Flu with his pool-pooping antics. Jerk.
So the last topic of Blog 2 in the mini-series: Sake. We had made reservations at the Asian restaurant called Sensai on Night 2 or 3. I was having a hard time deciding what to drink. Beer was too heavy, I was sick of the fruity frozen shit and I wanted to catch a good buzz without too much effort. Therefore, the drink selection for the evening could only be one... or two... things: bitter house wine and bitter house sake. No delicious fruity flavors to mask the distinct afterbite that makes me involuntarily click my teeth either. The wine was basically straight vinegar and the sake, like all unflavored sake, tasted like hot vodka. We... no Husband... ended up making friends with the couple to our right. They were young and apparently were also looking to destroy their livers via sake shots. Every time the waiter came around, another round of sake came too. Husband talked sooo much. You know Husband is drunk when he busts out his bar stories... the rounds of sake were coming so much that I didn't realize the waiter had kindly placed a full shot glass conveniently behind my elbow. Apparently, I was going to grow fingers from my elbow and grab the glass, or so the waiter thought. Pfftt, no. I knocked my big ass elbow right into that sneaky little shot glass and poured the hot vodka right down the front of me. My blue/white striped dress because quite see-through in the white sections and my thighs were burning from the hottness... oh, and it looked like I peed myself. Moron. I opted not to tell anyone, but instead act as though I took the shot and carefully wrap my arms awkwardly around my middle. Riiiight. I eventually just started flapping my dress and grinding my napkin into it. And I just took more shots to forget that I cared that I looked like a dumbass. Husband continued to tell stories throughout dinner. From what I understand, he doesn't recall anything he ate, but remembered that it was good. How sad to not remember eating fried ice cream... damn you sake! *Shaking fist. We continued our binge right over into Onyx (the Privilege bar). And exactly how did I know when to stop our binge? When Husband thought we were in Barbados. "Husband, do you know where we are? I think we should call it a night... you seem... tired." Bah! As any good wife would do, I kindly reminded him of his little mishap with geography and ensured that he did in fact know we were in Mexico. Not Barbados. *Smirk

Up Next: Hottest Place on Earth & Extreme Zip Lines

1 Response to "Mexico: Jerk Birds, Strip Clubs & Sake. Oh my!"

  1. The Belle Says:

    barbados. this entire thing makes me want to hug husband, pat his head and give him a map to study on his next work trip.