Hola! Como estas? See, that right there is what kept getting me into trouble in Mexico. I have a pretty limited understanding of Spanish, so I'd start out with that, and get a reply along the lines of something Speedy Gonzalez would say, and at about the same rate of speed. Ay caramba!

So, let's see, where to begin. How about this beauty from my notes:

"Queen in the bathroom"

Now, I realize that if you have a decent imagination, there are a lot of different things that could mean, most of them involving men in pantyhouse. Nevertheless, it's nowhere near that sordid. I'm in this joint called Senor Frog's, and I walk in the men's room, and this dude is in there playing the guitar for tips. Naturally, I ask him if I can play a tune, and he's for it. I mention to him that he's probably not going to know the song, and I start playing "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" by Queen. He proceeds to sing the entire song ... in English. I about fell over. 'Course, I was on shot #5 at the time, so that wouldn't have been a big surprise.

I ended up giving him 100 pesos as a tip. I never quite figured out how many pesos are in a dollar, so I either gave him around $10, $100 or $10,000. Either way, money well spent.

The rest of the night involved swing dancing with the waitresses. Needless to say, this was not my choice, but it's a little hard to just stand there when you get dragged onto the dance floor. I did manage to scare one away when she told me her lips were chapped and I offered her some Burt's Bees. So, if you're ever in Mexico, and are being attacked by Hispanic women, break out the Burt's. Apparently, it's toxic or dangerous or something.

So, I stayed at this adults only place, which frankly made me a tad nervous, but I wanted to avoid the family/kids scene. It wasn't bad at all - free Spanish Playboy in the rooms, and Spanish Playboy is a lot better than the American version (think brunettes with great tans vs. blondes) - but I did have one interesting conversation with a young lass when I went to go into one of the late night bars at the place.

Me: Hi!
She: Hola!
Me: So, what's the story with this place?
She: Well, it's an adult bar, and we play an adult game in here.
Me: Uh ... ok [visibly nervous] ... what does that mean?
She: [leans over and whispers] At the end of the night, half of the room will be nude.
Me: Does that include you?
She: No.
Me: Dag. [Running away as fast as possible].

I also learned that I look like a cokehead who likes hookers. That's the only conclusion I can come up with, since I was offered each more than a dozen times. One enterprising cab driver even had a menu of women. He handed it to me along with a flashlight. Talk about service!

As for the rest of the trip, I really didn't do much of anything. I read two books, napped on the beach a lot, drank a ton, watched Vanilla Sky in Spanish (I've fallen in love with Penelope Cruz because of that flick), and ate ... and ate ... and ate. I'm pretty sure I gained 100 pounds ... or 1,000 pesos pounds ... I haven't figured out the weight conversion, either.

I did manage to buy 3 more necklaces. That brings my total up to somewhere around 7. I have no idea how many that converts to in Mexico - 70? 700? Still haven't found one I really like, either. The search continues!

Strangely enough, the best part was the flight back. We flew right up the East Coast on Thanksgiving night, from Miami to Baltimore, and it was completely clear. Just a fantastic flight, and I'm not a big fan of flying in general.