Mexico City, Part 4

A new day begins in Mexico City, with what else? A pretty funny Milo story. Our go-to spot in the mornings was the Zocalo, since they were showing all the World Cup games on the huge screens. This was a particularly big day for Milo though, because his beloved Dutch team was playing. He donned his dorky orange jersey, and off we went to sit in the square and watch. He was pissed that there weren't more Dutch fans there, and he was pissed at the ones that were there for not being enthusiastic enough. Milo anger is always humorous, so I was just going along with it. Finally though, one moment made all his frustration evaporate away faster than a Mexican runs out on a bar tab...

The Dutch score a goal. And Rob loses his shit.

Folks, it was embarrassing and hilarious at the same time. First, he screamed like a tard when they hear the school bell. Then he jumped up and decided to tackle me while yelling in my ear. Then he got up and did, quite possibly, the worst dance of all time. As soon as the cameramen saw him (cameramen film the crowd during every game for clips to put on the news and FIFA's website n shit), they all came charging towards us. He was almost done by that point, but Milo's an obvious attention whore, so you can guess what he did.

He fucking started the Downy Dance all over again. That's what.

By this time, we've got 3 camera guys and a few photographers capturing this moment for eternity. He was quite impressed with himself, of course. I was embarrassed, of course...but this is par for the course when you chill with Rob Milo. I've seen the guy fall asleep, faceplanted, against the sliding glass door at the Cambie. Standing up. He's all class. The worst part was, when he finally calmed down and stopped talking about his awesome dance, a photographer came over and asked his name, because they were gonna put him in the local paper. "TIMMY, I'M GONNA BE FUCKIN FAMOUS!" Greeaaaaat. That's okay though, because this led to a better story later on.

Other than his dance and a guy using a bicycle as a pillow while he sprawled out on the ground to watch the game, the rest of the morning was pretty uneventful. Next up for us was the Turista bus. It's one of those hop-on, hop-off tacky tourist buses you see in every big city. Since the DF (Districto Federal, another name of the city/state) was huge, this bus would save us a lot of time trying to find shit on the metro. Our goal was to get off at the Anthropology Museum, one of the best museums in the world. We did a dandy job of that, just to find out...the fucking museum is closed on Mondays. Fack.

The next bus wasn't coming for an hour, so we decided to walk up to the next stop, just to see what was going on. Unfortunately and in true Mexican fashion, the next stop was completely hidden...so after checking out the arena, we had to walk all the fucking way back. I was sweating like a...well, like a fat guy. It's the best analogy I could come up with, fuck off.

Anyway, once we got back on the open-air bus, we climbed up top and took it all the way around the rest of the loop.

Three hours. No sunscreen. Motherfucker.

Other than a horrible sunburn, it was pretty cool. There are a lot of upmarket suburbs that are really nice. That opened our eyes to how awesome DF really is...it's actually one of the nicest cities I've ever seen. Mexico City is like a lot of women though - really pretty, but once you dig a little deeper you just know you're gonna find the crazy eventually.

In Mex City's case, the crazy started with the parks. For some reason, DF turned over park patrols to the military instead of the police, so it's like a full-on war zone in there. Soldiers everywhere, hiding behind trees and shit. And tanks. TANKS. In the middle of parks! It's was fucking insane. At one point while we were waiting for the bus, a massive tank rolled right past us, on the busiest street in the city, with 5 soldiers hanging off of it with AK-47's. And two were swinging a fucking fully loaded GATLING GUN from side to side...and staring at us. Hey, I'm all for security, but I didn't realize that we were in fucking Baghdad. Nuts.

As the tour continued, we got to see more pretty and more crazy, side by side. Beautiful architecture, check. Massive military attack helicopter landing beside it? Check. Amusement park, check. 20 soldiers manning the razor wire fence around the park? Check. It was unreal. We definitely learned about both sides of the city that day. Oh, and Milo got whacked in the face by tree branches about 5 times, since we were on the top of the open-air bus. Every time something freaked me out, he'd get bitchslapped by a tree and everything would back to normal. "Wow, that's some freaky shi - OWW FUCK WHAT THE FUCK!" I laughed out loud just thinking about it right now, and the chick sitting next to me on the train gave me a strange look. She wants me, I know it.

Where was I? Oh yeah, DF. After our big city adventure, we bought some sunscreen (a little late!) and chilled for a bit before heading back to Bar St to down some wobblers. I'll save that for the next part, because...that's where the crazy truly begins. For Milo, anyway.