Mexico (Part 3) – Dream Team Assemble
Quick note. It took me like a week to get through the first 2 Mexico posts from Facebook, it was fucking killing me. You just see your writing and seriously have to ask yourself if you’re teaching a disabled kid English. Past tense blended with present tense, spelling mistakes, it’s like dealing with a blind, low functioning, autist. Might as well throw a wheelchair in there too. So I’m not going to edit this one cause I’m jumping at the gun to send some words out into the world. Without further ado…
1) CR girls are actually around for one more day before they go back to Cancun and then home. We actually wrapped up the previous night around 1, and had made plans to go biking to a Cenote bright and early the next morning.
2) On the second day in Tulum, I managed to find some time to hit the grocery store (cooked us a few meals); of note was the armed security guard at the door, scary looking Mexican dude in full military getup and packing the most ridiculously large shotgun you could imagine. When I came back a second time a few days later he wasn’t there, so I’mpretty sure he was just there the first time to handle an ATM load-up. Note to self, don’t ever try to rob anything in Mexico, you’re guaranteed to get clapped.
Day 8 (Friday, Jan 15):
It’s an 8am wakeup alone in Jeff and I’s airbnb. Jeff is currently stranded out near the beach / hotel zone trappedin an awkward situation (hookup from the previous night / the girls he was out with and their boyfriends).
I’m poking Maria on IG to check in to see if we are still live for the cenotes (basically these underground cave / spring systems that are all the rage in Tulum), but there’s no reply; I kind of figure the girls definitely didn’t make the wakeup call, and end out passing out another few hours.
When I wake up, Jeff is back in the apartment. We swap war stories briefly, I’m a little bit tilted that Maria has basically ghosted me on her last day, and Jeff and I start planning the day.
As ridiculous as it sounds, I’ve thus far not managed to get a solid party night out with Deanna and Ashley (I missed them on their first night, and they KOed early the following night), and since they’re only around for a few more days, it makes sense to rally the degen squad back together. So Jeff and I hop into a five minute cab, and after getting lost a bit in an area slightly off the main strip of Tulum, we arrive at the ladies penthouse.
It’s a super nice Air BNB complex, yellowish siding that looks a bit faded, and we manage to climb up the five flights of stairs, where the girls are sitting in a tiny rooftop pool (think hot tub sized), blasting their standard gangster beats, and already well on their way to getting sauced. As I mentioned I’m tilted, so after sticking our 12 pack in their fridge it’s shotgun time for Brando.
We’re hammering Coronas, Modello’s, and between the four of us, we put down the girls 40 of whisky. Mostly just all catching up, with some interludes for a crappy drinking game I invent on the spot involving throwing bottle caps into a small jar they have on the table, as well as some multi floor “Extendos”. A lot of fun, but definitely a bit of a waste of beer, it’s fucking all over us.
At some point Jeff retires into their apartment for a brief nap to recharge, and I try and fail to make friends with a cool looking gecko which is clambering around the inner walls of the rooftop courtyard.
It’s really nice to be able to catch up and throw down with the friends we came with, and we get a solid pregame in until about 5 or 6pm, when we decide it’s time to make some moves on the dinner front.
We stop by my apartment to continue the pregame, and Jeff is in really rough shape. I take a brief step out to acquire him a source of energy (these subtle blow references were for gainfully employed Brando, fuck the corporate life!), which involves me getting momentarily scammed.
Seriously, these absolute fuckfaces tried to Tulum tourist me and give me twenty instead of the hundred I paid. I’ll pop off on this for a second… I was halfway back to the apt complex, and then I saw the bag. Texted the crew to let em know what was up and they all said to come back… but I let the hamster wheel spin, and it came down to this… it would be way more annoying for them to kill me then just hand out the rest of the product.
Seriously, killing someone must be a pain in the ass. So I went back. I was respectful. I let them know that they shorted me massively, and that I’d most likely come back, but I’d appreciate if they made it right. We’re talking back room of some sort of Mexican gangster house. The one dude says I have massive cahones, and the other dude just 5xes what they gave me in the first go around, so it worked out. Brando goes retarded in Mexico, I only have one sketchier moment and it’s on the Mexico trip next year.
Anyways, we leave the appartment for dinner fired up and ready to go. We decide to bring the girls out to the first restaurant we went to when we arrived in Tulum, Encanto Cantina, and I regret to inform you that it failed all previous expectations.
The same catch of the day dish is really just a bunch of average fish sitting on top of a mountain of gooey plantain, and the new live and is fucking awful. Everyone is feeling the effects of the last week of partying, and spirits are a bit low.
Ashley (the fucking princess!. Haha but nah she’s a beaut) barely touches her food and is tempted to roll back to the crib, but I convince her to come out to the next bar and do one more drink with us. I also get a message from Maria; some issue with her Sim card in the morning apparently, not super convincing, and they are planning to lay low for the night so that travel the next day isn’t terrible. Well, fuck it boys, at least I tried. Love’s not gonna find you, sometimes you gotta work for it.
The next bar is a dingy little spot on the street, honestly nothing remarkable about it. The 4 of us grab a table, and Yuri finally makes it out to meet us. We put away a couple of drinks and shots, and I make a quick run to the bank hoping to score some cash, but it ends up being a fairly frustrating experience; I stand in line for about 15 minutes while this one girl just completely fails to figure out how ATM technology works and holds everyone up. Her 3 friends, also shit faced, are unable to assist her, and I end up getting back to the bar and some grumpy friends, where we decide we need to get the fuck out of there before we all die of boredom.
We follow this up with a final bar, a dimly lit rooftop spot on the main strip, and after a few rounds of shots and some mixed drinks the crew has made a full recovery. I exchange a few pleasantries with a crew at the table next to us (the first other asians I’ve seen since I’ve been in Mexico!), and Ashley gets a chance to live out one part of one of her life goals (involving multiple midgets), the bar has at least one midget working for them, dressed up in an amazing gladiator costume, and at some point him and her are making out at our table. Fuck I’m reading this right now and it’s like I’m there. She’s making out with a midget in a gladiator costume, holy fuck, gooooo Ashley! Seriously lmao I forgot, this might have been the funniest fucking part of the trip.
A lotof people are enjoying the spectacle, I feel a little bad about all the attention being called to it, but it’s all good natured fun and the dude is jacked / obviously used to getting this sort of attention, so it’s not a big deal.
The night is young, and we’re now properly turned up; standard bars are closing, but thanks to Blackie from the previous edition, we know exactly where we’re headed next; Sport’s Bar. Holy fuck boys, we’re going to Sport’s Bar.
Sport’s Bar has nothing to do with sports, or a bar really. It’s basically an afterhours dance club straight out of some degenerates wet dream / trauma nightmare. Somehow there’s no line or cover to get in, we get in easy breezy, and Ashley has made a new friend the instant we step in the door (sticking her tongue in his mouth, good way to say hello).
The rest of us score some quick drinks at the downstairs bar, and ease our way into the absolutely packed dance floor where absolutely no fucks are given about COVID. Bathroom on the ground floor is exactly what you’d expect in a place like this, with a couple of salesmen (ok, fucking drug-dealers) running around and all the toilet stalls occupied, and Deanna, Jeff, Yuri and I find ourselves on one of the two upper deck railings while electro just pounds in your ears at 200 decibels.
Hot, sweaty, and the ratio is absolutely fucking terrible; it’s like every guy in Tulum came here with the same idea, but no one bothered to invite the girls to the party. I make this point in conversation with a seedy looking Mexican dude upstairs. We’re scouting the dance floor down below and he points out a pocket, a single pocket, of girls on the dance floor, out to me.
In my current state that’s enough for me, and I’m leading the charge down the staircase towards the last bastion of love and hope. Everyone is obviously shithoused and high out of their minds, and I manage to get in on the group; it’s a mixed group with some massive bearded dudes, and some cutie pies.
Looks like there’s a lone single blondie that I zero in on, and manage to snag a dance with her, but my club wheels have always been shit, and I find myself telling her at some point that I suck at dancing, which is a line that has never worked on any girl in the history of time. Holy fucking square wheels batman.
Doesn’t help that literally every guy in the club has the same idea; her girl friends are encouraging me to go for it, but if Attenborough was narrating this I’m pretty sure he’d be face palming. *British Accent* “And nowww, the male has performed the mating ritual, but she does not impressed. He will have to wait until next season if he wishes to forge any offspring”.
Anyways, everyone is just jamming out to the tunes, and I’m a little tilted that I’ve basically blown it with the only girl I was interested in there (at some point Deanna talked to her, and she told her she was a lesbian, which still doesn’t make sense to me since her friends were telling me to go for it), so I do the only thing that makes sense; it’s tarps off time!
FUCKING TARPS OFF BOYS, LETS GOOOOO.
So I peel off my shirt and just start jamming to the music, and I end up starting a fucking movement; in the next twenty seconds we have about 40 guys with their shirts off in the club.
Jesus fucking christ, what have I started, NOT LIKE THIS, not with this ratio. Feel someone dancing on me, look around and it’s a guy. Of course it’s a fucking dude.
Well, at least someone likes me. Pretty sure that gay Mexican dude had the time of his life, happy for him. Fucking guy could have at least bought me a drink first.
I attain local legend status when a couple of guys decide to try and get me to double extendo chug their beers (video below, spoiler, this is def where I got covid LOL), pretty much all ends up on my chest, but everyone is just going for er and it’s fun times.
Standard club shit for the next few hours, everyone is having a good time just rocking out, but it’s getting late (early). At some point left to hack a dart, and also escape all the body heat.
Come back in, and some super drunk dude that I bump into is trying to start shit with me. I’m still in good spirits and avoid any trouble, which is good (and rare for me, once I’ve hit a couple shots, hard liquor turns me into a dickhead)… less than a minute later a big circle has opened up and drunk cowboy hat dude is scrapping with some other kid. They both land a couple of solid shots, which is impressive cause there’s no way anyone was seeing straight at that point, and then the bouncers swoop in.
These bouncers are fucking scary. Big, bald, jacked Mexicans that no one wants to fuck with. One bouncer catches cowboy hat dude with a solid right, he goes down so fast, and then they’re bouncing his head off the concrete floor… honestly thought I was going to watch a murder in front of my eyes, but after he goes limp (holy fuck, I’m remembering it nowand it was fucking savage) the bouncer just one arm lifts him over his head like a sack of potatoes and they carry him out. Throw him out the door like he’s a sack of garbage. Self Note: never fuck with the bouncers in Mexico.
Yuri and Deanna have been making some conversation for part of this time. I gotta type an aside here; two of my fav people in the entire world. In some other universe there’s a Deezy and Yuri love arc. I’d fucking go to that wedding, he prob has a super hot sister who’s just fucking awesome.
We manage to find Jeff and decide that it’s time to go home, it’s gotta be like 7am at this point. We manage to exchange drunken goodbyes with Yuri (absolute legend, leaving the next day, will be sorely missed), and then Deanna, Jeff and I pile back to our Airbnb. We put down a final drink, and then pass out in our respective beds (Jeff has a bed in his room, I have my bed, plus some random bunk beds, which Deanna steals all my sheets into; with the aircon. I end up freezing my ass of that night, thanks D). LMAO I actually forgot this part, fucking sheet stealer. She’s an absolute gem though, def deserved the sheets.
Day 9:
Oof, the hangover. Don’t think it’s ever been worse. I mean I guess they are getting progressively worse.
Jeff, Deanna, and I manage to wake up fairly early in the morning, and decide we’ll head back to the girls place to scoop Ashley before heading to the beach. But Ashley has no intention of leaving the pool, Deanna gives up on the beach fairly quickly, and Jeff and I are pretty easy to convince to have a saucy lazy day, given our current states.
Ashley is still swapping text with her midget (man, one day I need the full midget saga out of her, I’m laughing my ass off rereading this), but Saturday ends up being a bit of a bust. We’re still goofing around and drinking on deck, but after some road side tacos for dinner (one of the cheapest, best meals we had), making any further plans just feels like a stretch. Turns out humans need some rest and water once in awhile.
We book an ATV jungle tour for the next day, and then Jeff and I make our way back to our own apartment for some proper rest. It’s only 11pm, and one of my last nights in Tulum, and I’m a little tempted to head back to the club, but I make the responisble choice and opt to play some online poker with friends and family to close out the night, and am probably asleep by 1.
Day 10:
Sunday funday is what they say. We’re all in much better shape, and we have an ATV tour through the jungle to the cenotes, which I’m excited for. So we grab a couple of drinks at the hostel bar while we wait for our tour bus to arrive.
Tour bus arrives at 2, and equipped with bug spray, a couple beers, and a bottle of wine, we set off in a north eastern direction up the highway, part of the way back to Cancun.
If Mexico ends up going into a zombie apocalypse, I know where I’m stocking up on gear. These guys have a full blown mechanics shop set up with about 20 ATVs, and at least 2 other tour busses with other riders pull up. The tour guide explains how everything works for his demo ATV, and then gets Deanna to “show everyone how it’s done”; of course, we’ve been paying half attention at most and she gets teased a little bit trying to figure out how to start the thing up. I’m picturing this now and it’s actually fucking hilarious, she’s up there with the dude in front of like twenty tourists, and just can’t start the thing, he literally JUST showed us how it all worked.
She’s a champ though, not perturbed at all. My face would have been red and on fire. After the initial hiccup it’s pretty smooth. These things can fly! We’re all lined up single file, ATV after ATV, down a bumpy dirt road in the jungle. Tour guide, Ashley, Deanna, myself, Jeff, and then the rest of the twenty deep crew.
I alternate between going really slow to let Deanna get some distance in front of me, and then just gunning the thing to see what it can do; definitely fast enough that it’s exciting, and on a slightly chillier day, the warm engine feels pretty nice on the legs. We rip a few kilometers down the forest path and arrive at the first cenote.
There’s a rickety staircase leading down into what would be a pitch black cave system, except for the fact they have it rigged up with some discount lights that feel like they were purchased at the dollar store. Stairs lead our group onto a platform, where the tour guides tell us we can swim if we want.
I managed to forget my swim trunks, so I strip down to my boxers, and then Jeff and I are headed into surprisingly warm (read; cold, but not freezing) water that reaches about chin height at the deepest spots. There are a few tiny fish that follow us around, and we’re able to take full advantage of the 30 minutes we have at this location to swim through the tunnels and explore the cave system. Definitely a little spooky, but there’s a group of Jamaican’s behind us that can’t swim (of course LOL) for some comedic relief, so it ends up being pretty ok.
When Jeff and I return surface side, we find Deanna and Ashley have popped their bottle of wine, so we join them for some drinks. Definitely felt like we were breaking the “no drinking on the ATV” rule, but the Jamaicans have popped and are crushing a bottle of rum to one up us (and let’s get real, it’s fucking Mexico), so it ends up being just fine.
Get told off for trying to hack a dart on my ATV as we cruise to the second cenote; the ATVs have their fuel valve on the top of the vehicle, so it was prob a bad idea anyways unless I want to turn into an Al Qaeda terrorist.
There’s no swimming at the second location; it’s all sweet water, which is basically the same spring water as before, but whereas the first caves water was clear, this one is all gunked up with some sort of mineral content. It’s called Cenote Jaguar; apparently Jaguars do come to the cave to drink and hunt at night.
We looked on the walk through the cave but didn’t spot any bats, which was a little surprising, since they seem to be everywhere a few days later (in Huatulco); you’d figure at least a few of them would, you know, live in caves to escape the sunlight during the day. Doing fucking bat things.
Fairly uneventful walk through the cave, an ATV ride back to the shop, and then we are on the tour bus back to the hostel. This is the last night in Mexico for the girls, so they want to Bougie it up, and we decide to hit the beach / hotel zone for one last fancy dinner.
There are again, no tables available without reservation at Jaguar, so we walk down the dirt road a bit and stumble across this giant supper club (name?). Super dimly lit (for class of course), tables upon tables of super good looking people pretending to live their best lives (kinda ironic how bad I’m shitting on influencers given that I’m currently making a living streaming and coaching chess!), the whole nine yards.
It’s a Japanese Mexican fusion resto, sushi and fancy dishes galore. I opt for a bowl of miso soup and some salmon, Deanna has the most eye popping dish with what they call Fireballs (deep fried crab cakes that they flambe with a torch table side).
A few of the customers are dancing next to their tables, music is loud and the vibes are good. Some excellent Wagyu beef tartar, I manage to avoid getting in on the bottle of wine and sip a sapporo, so my bill isn’t completely ridiculous.
The prettier girls dancing table side are handed sparklers by staff, definitely adding to the bouge factor, and they’re definitely easy on the eyes. We once again make the responsible decision to escape the beach / hotel zone before it gets too late and we are trapped there.
Convince Deanna and Ashley to join us for a last nightcap at the hostel bar, and then it’s hugs to the homies, have a safe trip back to Montreal. We all have early bus rides back to Cancun, where Jeff and I will depart to Huatulco, and Deanna and Ash will make their way home.
Brando's Rambles 
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