I went on a fantastical journey to Mexico last week to visit my parents who are retired and living out everyones dream of living in Mexico for half the year, I must say that despite doing this they have avoided looking like leather handbags like most people who do this. Kudos to them on proper skin care. Anyways, I have gone to visit them there before but this time I brought Matt, my friend Jess and her boyfriend Brian. It was bound to be a booze fueled adventure with the four of us but shockingly enough we didn’t really get into that much trouble, probably for the best since I can’t afford bail in a Mexican jail. The first 24 hours there were actually the most debaucherous for me and I’m placing the blame solely on the fact that it was our first night there and it was also my 25th birthday. I was pretty proud of myself because in my usual awkward fashion I managed to make a total ass out of myself in Mexico as well as the US where we were stopped over for only a few hours. Pat on the back for myself right there.
We arrived at the Vancouver airport pretty early in the morning and we had awhile to hang out and wait for our flight. I spent that time like I spend all my time in airports: feverishly looking around for any sign of a celebrity that I could manhandle. I never ever run into celebrities which pisses me off and doesn’t seem right for the amount of time I spend drunkenly stumbling around the streets of Vancouver with Jenna, or the amount of times I’ve languished around the Vancouver airport for hours waiting for a flight. This is also ridiculous because my favorite tv show films there and one of the actors is like 10 feet tall so you would think the odds would eventually fall into my favour and I could spot him. The only explanation is that celebrities don’t go to grimy hotel bars to watch burlesque shows, or Uncle Fatihs pizza at 3 in the morning which is usually where I am whenever I go to Van.
Anyways, I was looking around hoping to see some tall handsome men when Jess elbowed me and pointed out a woman sitting a few seats away from us “hey Rig, I think she’s an actor” I looked and decided that she must have been since she was wearing a jaunty beret. After spending some time awkwardly peering at her from behind my book I realized she did look familiar: she was the broad from that one Star Trek who was a robot or a borg or something. As I looked at her I was like “oh that’s Jeri Ryan” I then totally freaked myself out because I don’t watch whatever Star Trek she is in and I have never seen her in anything else, so why did I know what her name was? the depths of my totally useless pop culture knowledge was frightening. I was actually a little upset with myself that I knew what this totally random C list celebrities name was, but I had no idea where Turkey was on a map.
We got on the flight and my concerns about my pop culture addled brain were quelled and replaced with an irrational fear of flying. Everytime I get on a flight I’m always terrified of several things happening, like the wings falling off or a phantom traveler possessing someone and making them open the door, or worse of all: a gremlin on the wing. The thought of someone hijacking the plane has never really occurred to me, which is also something I should probably examine about myself because apparently a gremlin messing with the plane is more likely to happen than a terrorist in my opinion.
So we landed in LA and we were stuck there for an hour or so. I continued my random staring at people who I thought were celebrities and Brian and Jess we convinced the guy sitting infront of us was a celebrity, well not really a celebrity but a “that guy” one of those guys you see in tons of things but you have no idea who he is. I racked my brains and couldn’t figure out who he was, which pleased me because it meant my descent into useless knowledge hell wasn’t entirely complete.
There was very little food options in possibly the worst food court ever so we were stuck with Burger King. Matt and I got in line and I looked at the menu totally not sure what to get “I haven’t eaten at Burger King since I was like 11, I have no idea what to get” I said to Matt. Instantly a woman infront of us turned around and gaped at me like I was some sort of freak. I got up to the front and asked the woman if they took debit. Apparently it’s not a thing in a lot of countries but I thought it was, so I guess I’m an ignorant jerk. You can use debit in Mexico and all of Canada so I thought you could use it at frigging Burger King in an airport. Matt had to pony up for my value meal and that is why I love him. So we had to stand off to the side and wait for our food when I spotted a ziploc bag someone had dropped that was full of medicine. I did what I assumed anyone would do and bent down to grab it and started asking people in the line up if they dropped it.
Before I get into this, I want you all to understand something: some of you readers get pretty hard on me because I’m constantly ragging on the US and how much it sucks. I am sure there are very lovely people that live there and that not everyone sucks but every single time I have been there I have had some shitty experience that makes me question humanity. This is one of those times.
First of all, at least a dozen people had to have seen the bag at the same time I did and it was literally right next to a few people standing in the line up. When I picked it up and started randomly asking the crowd if it was anyones, not a single person looked my way or even acknowledged I was speaking to them. I was shocked. It wasn’t like I was holding a bag of skittles, this legit had medicine in it. I know that I come off as a mean spirited bitch but I do genuinely care about other people, just not total dumbasses. Like, if it was Heidi Montags medicine I would have thrown it down a storm drain, but it was probably some poor suckers medicine. I could just picture them searching for it and being so stressed out so I wanted to try and help. After being completely ignored like I was an offbrand dollar store Barbie Doll, I decided to go up to the front and ask the manager if he could go over the intercom and announce that someones bag was here. So I headed up to the counter and asked.
He literally stared at me blankly after I finished, took the bag from me, put it behind the counter and continued putting sandwiches in bags. I was devastated and also really, really pissed off so I told Matt I had to leave and let him wait for the food. I fumed outside the restaurant about how a group of people, almost all of them adults, could completely not care about someone else. I know that standing in line and waiting for a gross hamburger is pretty important but I hate this attitude of “someone else will deal with it” or “it’s not mine so I don’t care” I know it isn’t theirs but as if they have never lost anything and would have loved to have it returned. I’m not trying to claim I’m some sort of heroic person but I mean, come on people. Jess tried to console me by saying “it’s just the culture” which is a depressing statement because there is no way ignoring everyone elses needs but your own can be a culture.
So the food arrived and I ate it while sitting on the floor of the airport totally bummed out that the world was full of dicks. Not even the good kind of sarcastic dicks like I enjoy, just total jerks. Matt then told me that after I left the restaurant a bunch of people were muttering about what I had done and one person said “what the fuck was she doing?” about me. I was seriously so crushed. How does me trying to help out a total stranger make me an asshole? I hope all of those people get dysentery and die from those burgers. And then I hope when they go to the medical room at the airport the nurse there says “oh God, I would love to help you but I dropped the bag of medicine somewhere and now you will all poop yourselves to death”
We finally arrived in Mexico without any more incidents of jackassery and my parents were there to greet us with a cooler full of booze. I love my parents. We went straight to our favorite restaurant where I gorged myself on tacos and thankfully didn’t find any rogue bags on the ground. Afterwards it was pretty late so we decided to get some drinks and head down to the ocean to…well, drink and look at the ocean. I must have been having a great time because I had several drinks and had several long looks at the ocean. I’m sure I was contemplating lots of deep meaningful things while I looked at the vastness of the ocean and sipped thoughtfully from my plastic cup full of peach juice and vodka.
Several cups later I decided to go run around in the ocean like an idiot and well, here is the photo that pretty much sums up the night. Please note the homemade jean shorts and cup of booze. Also, it is interesting to note that this was several weeks after my breast reduction surgery so I was fully enjoying the fact that I could go braless which I hadn’t been able to do since I was probably 13. I know I yelled “I’m out there and I’M LOVIN’ EVERY MINUTE OF IT” at least 3 times that night so I might actually be yelling that in this picture, more likely though I was screaming nonsense.
After a few jaunts around the ocean it was decided that since it was my birthday we needed to celebrate properly which, according to a severely intoxicated Rigby consisted of trying to sneak into all inclusives and try to scam booze. I have no idea why we did this because there was a 2L bottle of Vodka back at our condo that my dad had bought for me at Costco earlier that day as a birthday present. Like I said, I love my parents.
We went into one and it was the nicest hotel I have seen in my entire life. Just the grounds were gorgeous and it was quite clear we did not belong there. I decided to rectify this by shouting out of no one in particular that I was thoroughly enjoying my stay here which my career as a race-car scientist had paid for. I then did a comically huge wink at Matt and Brian and said “JUST LIKE STEVE MCQUEEN” We went inside and spotted the bar. We then huddled around a table trying to pick our best course of action. We rock paper scissored to see who would go up first and Matt had to go up. Matt is very charismatic and when he’s been drinking he becomes even more charming, it usually only works with women but in a pinch it would work with a Mexican bartender. He went up and returned with a Caesar. He said it was really shitty but it was free so that’s all that mattered. Brian and I decided to make our move and I grabbed a Styrofoam cup from a table and went up to the bar and asked for a screwdriver. The guy started making it and then stopped and asked to see my wristband. I panicked. Several scenarios went through my mind on how I could get out of this one. I could unzip my hoodie and give him a shot of the goods, I was braless after all. I could shove Brian over and run away in the confusion. I could start crying and hope he would take pity on me. In the end I decided to go with that old stand by: playing dumb.
“…oh my bracelet? it’s….in my room…I’ll be right back!!” and then I proceeded to walk straight out the front door into the street. Apparently seconds after I grabbed my cup, Brian grabbed one and knocked over the entire stack so that might have been a signal that were were already wasted despite them not serving us anything all night. We wandered the streets for awhile drinking before we decided to call it quits and head home. I had a horrible sleep marred with several bouts of throwing up and spent the morning enjoying the breakfast of champs: Pepto Bismol. But as I laid all curled up in the fetal position in my bed I thought to myself
“at least I didn’t get a free drink, then I would probably be dead right now”
And now I present to you all, the greatest hangover photo ever taken. Please note that I can’t even extend my thumb fully on one hand.