Mexico? Really?

Only in this crazy place could a girl end up at an island bar with a Cuban girlfriend, a Yankee bartender named Scotty, meet a Navajo who brews his own beer, drink Irish cider, eat Canadian poutine, and watch English soccer on television.  Unbelievable.

Don’t you just love it when an ordinary moment just twists a little bit in one direction and becomes sensational?

Tonight was one of those nights when I just wanted to get out of my cave for some people (rather than canine) company.  Miss Cuba met me out, Navajo bought the shots, and Scotty told us stories over a game of dice.  Bar dice – something new introduced to me.  Imported from Milwaukee and made into a bar establishment – there’s a tournament for the game in this bar!  It is a game usually powered by Jägermeister but for the delicate lady-stomachs Scotty flashed his creative shot skills.  Amarula, Blue Curacao, pineapple juice, coconut rum in little harmless bite sizes.  But the first one was vodka.

And vodka makes you pregnant!

In order to protect my newly minted Resolution, I enjoyed my night and went merrily home.  But not before I got a good tale off Scotty.

Scotty had been sitting down for a bar meal at another establishment down the strip when a group of cruise passengers sat close by.  There are several cruise ships in port here every day, either on their way to or on their way from Mexico through the islands of the Caribbean.  As one of the girls began to order she asked “Are the quesadillas any good?” and then stopped the waitress with a hand that could stop traffic “Oh no, don’t answer that… we’re in Mexico.  Of course they’re good!”

I tell you that vodka!


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