Al's Mexcellent Adventure, Day One: Fun in a Fountain

I woke up around midnight Tuesday night/ Wednesday morning to The Wife banging around in our other bedroom, trying to weigh luggage or something. I really don't know what the hell she was doing, but it was loud. And annoying. She couldn't sleep and was doing counter-productive last minute packing. We had a taxi coming at 4:30 to take us to the airport and if she didn't get any sleep (I had been assed out for about four hours at this point), she'd have been a big bowl of suck traveling.

After convincing her that our downstairs neighbor probably didn't appreciate her incessantly stomping around our apartment, she hopped in the shower and then into bed. Alas, as she drifted off to sleep, it was I who could no longer sleep. Sometime around one, I stopped my futile attempt to slumberand played video games. As far as I know, I am the only guy to do a fantasy draft and simulate an entire season of MLB 2K6 immediately before leaving the country.

I woke The Wife up at 3:30, fixed myself a bloody, and was in the cab and out the door by 4:20 and at Lambert Airport by 4:45. Our plane, which was about 1/4 full of our families (if that sucker were to go down, my nieces and nephews -- none of the four made the trip -- would have been fucked) took off early and landed in Cancun shortly after nine. From there, I pressed a button, it flashed green, and I was officially in Mexico. We rode in a Dodge Stratus (!!!) for an hour and fifteen minutes, listening to an odd playlist featuring Aerosmith, War, and twenty different Cranberries songs (they may very well have been the same song, played over and over again for all I know), and arrived at our resort.

From there is was a big bag of confusion, as The Wife and I tried to check in and assemble gift bags for the rest of our party before they arrived. It was unsuccessful. So, I drank.

I'm not sure what happened in the next twelve hours, but the next thing I know, I'm on a hot dancefloor, listening to a crappy Mexican rock band cover Skynyrd. It was as awesome as it sounds. We closed the discotheque down at one in the morning and headed back to our room for after hours (it was like we were 18 again). During the walk back, our friend Sarah offered me five dollars to hop in a fountain. Since I'm an idiot and will do just about anything just for a story (let alone for five bucks), I accepted her offer.

Big day of travel, twelve hours of drinking, no sleep in over a day, big fat guy in a fountain? Not pretty.
(This is where I remember that Sarah still owes me five dollars.)

We get back to our room, joined by my older sister Maggie, and my Marine buddies Joshtastic and Will. Josh, Will and I conquer my balcony with beers, while the ladies stay inside and talk about their menstrual cycles (or so I imagine). I finally get sleepy and head to bed. When Josh and Will finally leave (after screaming at each other about college football on my balcony for two hours), they find The Wife and my sister both passed out on the couch (presumably eating club sandwiches for effect) and me in bed. According to them, the whole scene makes about as much sense as you'd expect.

And that is how I spent my Wednesday two weeks ago.

Coming up tomorrow: Al and Gallo buy a big bag of Mexican schwag.

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A shrewd businessman would ask for payment in pesos.

Is the Dodge Stratus is the new Volkswagon Beetle?

The dollar is pretty down right now. Thanks for the tip, kegerator. Mexcellent work.
No prob.

Damn my grammar blows.
I love it....can't wait for the rest of the week since it onyl gets more ridiculous!
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