Mexico City, Part 5

"You're an asshole."
"HAHA I know, but it was really funny!"
"No it wasn't asshole, it was embarrassing! I just saw a lady and got the fuck outta there as fast as possible. You should have seen the look on her face. Okay, okay...maybe it was a little funny."
"YES! I WIN!"
"Don't make me dance again. I'll do it right here, in this bar."
"Okay okay, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Sure it won't. Asshole!"

What the fuck are we talking about? Well, we ended up back at the same bar we were at the night before, with the super cute waitress. I guess Milo didn't remember the night before or something, and asked me which of the two doors was the guys bathroom, "Caballeros" or "Damas". Now I know damn well which is which, but you can guess my answer. "It's Damas dude, the one on the right". Three minutes later, the above conversation went down. That might have been my single biggest victory of the trip.

So while we're discussing all of this, and many other things, Milo kept looking at the girl at the next table, who was sitting with her friend. He apologized to her for our behavior in Milo-Spanish, and she surprised the fuck out of us by responding in English. And telling us that she had been listening to us the entire time and that we're really funny. Heh, interesting. Her name was Lisette. She was from Mexico City, but had lived in Germany for the past 7 years and was home visiting family for a few weeks. Eventually her friend left, but she stayed. Besides being cute, she was super friendly and pretty smart. She definitely had personality too, swearing a lot and emphasizing a lot of what she said with spastic hand movements. A pretty Mexi-tard, if you will.

She wanted to go to the Zona Rosa, which is the main tourist party area in the city. I knew it was kinda sketchy, and we were staying down in that area in a few days anyway, but whatever. It was worth checking out. She went to flag down a cab and I insisted on a sitio (safer) one. "Awww, how sweet, you're trying to protect me!" she said. "Fuck no, we're trying to save our asses!" I said. Ultra-smooth, as always.

The area was pretty much what I expected. Lots of clubs and patio bars, similar to where we were, but way grungier. Kids and women constantly coming to your table trying to sell you trinkets. Waitresses doing their absolute best to rip you off. Weirdos all over the place. The beers were cheap though, so all was not lost. The oddest part of the night was a guy standing outside our bar, face to face with a naked woman statue, motionless, staring at it. For at least a half hour. Nothing distracted him. Weeeeird.

Besides Milo attempting and butchering Spanish with Lisette (he tried to ask about what her father did for work, but ended up basically telling Lisette to call him (Milo) her daddy, which made her laugh uncontrollably while we looked at each other, clueless), he was doing pretty well with her. Eventually we took a cab back to our hood, which consisted of me and the cabbie looking straight ahead awkwardly while Milo tried to swallow her face in the back seat for the entire ride. He then took her to some cheap hotel, while I passed out, envisioning Milo's robbery and death in a variety of ways. As cool as she was, I was still in Mexico Fucking City, and trusted approximately no one. Luckily (or unluckily, as he'd soon come to find out), he was more trusting than I and went off to toss a freaky Mexican chick all night.

Our plan had been to head out of the city to Puebla the next day, but since Milo went Sleepless in Lisette all night, he was in no condition to go anywhere but dream street. So he passed out for a few hours while I went down to make arrangements for the hotel room for another night and grab some food and shit. Eventually I come back, and Milo's awake...and pissed.

"I fucking lost my bank card!"

Oh shit.

After checking the fleabag hotel he was at the night before, he fucked around on the phone for over 2 hours trying to get it canceled. It was a nightmare. Luckily he had his credit card so he wasn't at a loss for money, but DF's not exactly the place you want to lose your bank card. Did she steal it? We dunno!

As you can guess, the high stress level of that led to one thing - more beer drinking! And clowns. There's fucking clowns everywhere in Mexico City for some reason, and no one could explain why. Lisette claimed she didn't notice, even though they're EVERYWHERE. It'd be like coming to Vancouver and not noticing all the taxi drivers wear headgear. It's just another part of the weirdness that is Mexico City, I guess.

Since we had an extra day, we decided to make the most of it and sign up for a tour at a hostel that took people to...Mexican wrestling! Anyone who's seen Nacho Libre likely understands some of it, but Lucha Libre is fucking nuts, and super entertaining. We showed up at the desk ready to go, and were immediately handed tequila shots and a lucha mask to keep. For those not in the know, most Mexican wrestlers wear crazy masks that go back to Mexico's Aztec roots. Getting a free one was cool. So was the free shot - well, free shot for me. Free shotS for Milo. I think he had 4 in about 30 seconds. Needless to say, we were off to a good start.

The drive out there was a trip. Basically, Arena Mexico is in the hood. We spent the trip bullshitting with a Scandinavian couple and pointing out the crazy shit we were driving by, while the two Japanese dudes up front took pictures of everything. The outside of the arena is hilarious...it's designed like a regular apartment block, so you'd have no fucking idea it was an arena at all unless you went around back. Very weird. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to take my camera in there for some reason, but since I lost it, it didn't really matter anyway. No matter what though, we got our fucking money's worth.

As soon as we sat down, we were accosted by vendors. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't gonna drink there because I thought they'd rip us off. I said that out loud, and the tour leader said "No man, you should buy a beer. You'll get your money's worth." Okay then. I ask for a beer, and the guy goes to fucking work. He pulls out a monsterous cup each for me and Milo, and cracks 4 coronas in about .034 seconds. He then just throws two bottles in each cup, upside down, and hands them to us. Uh, okay. 30 pesos each. Like 2.40, for two bottles of corona in a Big Gulp cup. Sweet. Right when I begin to wonder what we're supposed to do with the the empty bottles, he reaches out, grabs all of them, pulls them out, and walks away. Now that's fucking service.

Then the yelling started.

Lucha has a batch of hardcore fans on either side of the building. One side roots for the technicos (good guys), the other side roots for the rudos (bad guys). We were sitting on the rudo side, right below them...and they were fucking hilarious. It was eerily similar to the English soccer match I went to, with these nutbars singing in unison and chanting ridiculous shit the entire night. Now I don't speak Spanish, but I definitely know some swear words. And I learned about 20 more that night. Despite there being kids all over the place, these guys called everyone and everything the worst names possible, and were super entertaining doing it. For example, there are ring girls, sort of like the UFC, that come out in between matches. Every time they came out, for every second they were out there, 50 guys and one girl chanted "PUTA! PUTA! PUTA!" at her. Whore. Over and over. Eventually me and Milo joined in...having carte blanche to call a chick a whore for no reason is just fucking fun, dammit. I'm trying it at the strip club next time.

And I haven't even talked about the actual wrestling yet. It's super theatrical, with a lot of flips and dives and crazy shit. Way more fake than regular wrestling, but the characters and high flying makes up for it. Our favorite character, by far, was a huge fat dude who did nothing except rub his belly on people and drop belly flops everywhere. His name was Super Porky, and he was our hero. I didn't think I'd get into it, but by the end both Milo and I were cheering and yelling along with the rudo clique and generally making fools of ourselves. It was awesome. I will be Super Porky at the bar one day, and it will rule. Don't lie, you wanna see it.

Meanwhile, Milo was getting his first dose of the Mexi-crazy. Despite telling Lisette three times that we were going to Lucha, she flipped out on him for not meeting up with her in the Zona Rosa. Eventually she came back to the Centro and they took off to their love hotel again, but the crazy seeds were planted. The crazy flower was about to bloom. The crazy fruit was almost ripe. The crazy branches were...okay, enough stupid crazy references.

Eventually, Milo showed up in the morning after taking her to buy the morning after pill. Yes, that was necessary. Yes, Milo's not so bright. Yes, I teased him about his terrible decision making for many, many days. Anyway, after another 3 hour nap, Milo was finally ready to ditch the DF so we could head off to Puebla. Which turned out to be fucking sweet. I'll get to that next time.