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here we go (deep breath)
By beth | August 5, 2008
So Whitney and I went to Cancun for the wedding of one HP Rockstar to one JewHottie, and we decided not to take cameras because we figured other people would have them, and we didn’t really feel like carrying them around. When we got to the airport in Cancun, though, we kind of wished we had one because we saw something or we wanted to do something stupid. I don’t really remember, but we wanted a picture of it. So we decided we’d pick up a disposable one for just such occasions, of which there were sure to be more. But then we never did. C’est la vie. Other people did, in fact, bring cameras, and I have a few of their pictures to share with you.
However, first a little lead-up. We arrived in Cancun on Thursday afternoon and hopped on our free (well, part of our all-inclusive package) shuttle to our hotel. We arrived at the hotel (which was fabulous, but I’ll tell you more about that later) around 4-ish, called HP’s hotel (aka “Wedding Central”), changed clothes and headed over to the Royal Solaris for the rehearsal dinner. Not the actual rehearsal, mind you. Just the dinner. And since I was rather tired and had been on a plane all day, and because I was wearing a strapless dress, I look kind of drunk and half-naked in all the pictures. 
Anyhoe, the best story from that night would have to be the cab ride home. We had the pleasure of being chauffeured by a man named Jorge, who introduced himself as “George.” He had seat covers with an ad on the back (facing us in the back seat) that said:
Pleasure Principle
An Adult Spa
Open 7 Days 24 Hours
Ask your taxi driver for details
And in addition to the mounds of information I’m sure “George” had about the Pleasure Principle adult spa, he also informed us that he had eight children by two different baby mamas, one in Mexico and one in Puerto Rico, but that he was NOT MARRIED (he was very clear about that). And he wanted to know if our hotel was a family hotel or an adult hotel, and THEN…Oh just get ready for it…
As we were headed down the home stretch to our hotel, a couple of police cars passed us headed the other way, so “George” and I started joking around, me saying, “I didn’t do it! It was him!” and him pointing at Whitney saying, “I didn’t do it! It was her!” Chuckle chuckle, all’s fun and games until your cab driver tries to sell you cocaine. I guess technically he didn’t ever make us an offer, but he did take the time to explain to us that cocaine is very cheap in Mexico. In fact, you can get a substantial amount of cocaine for only 100 US dollars.
We turned him down flatly, insisting that that sort of thing was for other tourists, not us, and we made it to the end of the road to the hotel…where “George” gouged us out of 50 bucks…presumably to spend on cocaine for his eight bi-national children.
Topics: not normal, friends, food |