When I told the roommate about my long weekend in Mexico, he said it sounded kind of lame, and it did sound lame. I’m having trouble figuring out why it wasn’t. I stayed in an empty resort with three dudes, there were an abundance of restaurants specializing in lobster in the area, but the cab ride to Rosarito was $20. And Rosarito was pretty dead too. I shouldn’t forget to mention that my room was freezing, I swear there was an air conditioner on in there that I couldn’t find. So why didn’t it suck? Possible reasons, in bullets.

  • Getting drunk while ridiculing Hogan Time’s music library. Harry Belefontae was one of the stronger artists, and finding an entire Paula Cole album on dude’s hard drive lead to spontaneous “I don’t want to wait” outbursts over the course of the weekend.
  • The ex-roommate Stevie had his Tijuana ex-girlfriend come down with a friend. She thought we should all go up to T.J. to go clubbing. We were informed that there was a chance someone would get shot at the bar she wanted to go to, but her narcotico friends would keep us all safe. We did not go to Tijauna.
  • We did go to a club in Rosarito instead, were Ernie earned his first singles for a strip-tease. I believe this might be the highlight of his year, despite the advanced years of the woman stuffing money down his pants.
  • Breakfast at the resort was awesome, and went for about $5. The lobster dinner down the road was also excellent, but not quite the steal breakfast was.
  • Significant amounts of alcohol might have also helped us have a good time. I tell myself I don’t have to drink to have a good time, but I haven’t convinced me.

In retrospect, we didn’t do anything in Mexico we couldn’t have done at home, but we probably wouldn’t have done any of it in the States.

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