Una Mas Cerveza, Por Favor

These words can only lead to trouble. And, bloat.

Cabo San Lucas. Home of...hell if I know, but what a place! The cerveza flowed freely, Pesos were the name of the game and the cost of taxi rides to the exact same place every day, changed...every day.

I missed Sammy Hagar by ONE day. Son of a bitch.

My innards are now completely acclimated to Mexican fare and I can NOT stop eating food that lights me on fire. I did, however, cease injesting the grilled serrano peppers served as a side at nearly every taco stand. After three days of living with blisters and sores all over the inside of my mouth, I determined that I should forgo those little devils for the rest of the trip. It was a necessary sacrifice. My mouth was in full revolt.

With sores fading but still present, I spent an entire day on Lover's Beach in the sun. My hair turned a lovely, more pale shade of yellow, my already tanned skin turned a deep shade of brownish red, and...my lips and eyes got sunburned. The next morning I looked like a blonde Mexican who'd been in a bar fight. My lower lip had doubled in size and my eyes were practically swollen shut.

As a cure, I flung myself in a beach chair, in the sun...for six hours. It's quite possible the sun had damaged my brain.

In all likelihood, I singlehandedly consumed five pounds of guacamole. Of the five nights I was in Cabo, I ate dinner exactly one night. The rest of the time my meals consisted of splitting gaucamole and various appetizers between the five of us...and beer. Ahhhh....Mexico.

The second day we were in Mexico, we went to the local Mega store. It's a cross between a grocery store and a Wal-Mart, but with antiquated cash registers, no A/C and unrecognizable food. It was an adventure attempting to find things we recognized and were agreeable to consuming. We searched for lunch meat...specifically turkey...and had almost given up after looking at clump after clump of Spam-like loaves of processed "meat." It was all identical in color and shape. *gag* As we were walking away from the deli, I spotted a familiar name. Oscar Mayer. All hail, Oscar Mayer!! We did a little dance right there in the middle of the store, high fiving one another for finding meat that actually appeared to have come from an actual turkey.

After about an hour, we loaded our wagon (yes...an actual wagon) with the following:

• Coconut rum
• Mango juice
• Sprite
• Frozen strawberry daquiri mix
• Bananas
• Avocados (More guacamole, please!)
• Cilantro (Sad, sad looking cilantro)
• Tomatoes (Sad...SAD looking tomatoes)
• Onion
• Lime
• Tortilla chips
• Turkey (2 packs!)
• Wonder wheat bread (did you know that Wonder made wheat bread?!)
• Kraft (YES!) Manchego cheese slices (who knew?!)
• 2 six-packs of Corona
• 2 six-packs of Pacifico
• 1 box of granola bars
• Six diet Cokes (not a damn diet Dr. Pepper in the whole flippin' place)
• 1 chubby little round of Gouda cheese AND
• a box of Garden Vegetable crackers

Rock and roll!!

We grabbed a beer, hit the pool and proceeded to work on our itinerary for the week. It went a little something like this:

1. Wake up
2. Go to pool (with beer)
3. Stay at pool until sun goes over the top of the condo and begins to disappear
4. Go up to condo and grab a beer
5. Take a shower and get dolled up
6. Grab a beer
7. Take a taxi somewhere, haggle with the driver over the price and over pay unintentionally
8. Say we're going to eat dinner, but end up sharing appetizers and drinking beer
9. Talk loud, talk dirty, use bad language and behave altogether like a bunch of 40-something women turned loose in Mexico
10. Order more beer
11. Find a place to dance to music not played by a mariachi band and shut the place down
12. Hail a taxi, swear at the driver in piss poor Spanish because the cab ride for some reason has now increased by 100 Pesos. 
13. Arrive at condo and unintentionally over pay the driver
14. Sleep. To hell with the sand in the sheets.
15. Wake up and start all over again.

Now that, my friends...is a vacation.