Bavaria

Bavaria is the name of the German pub/dance club (more like dance wherever there is space in the pub) where Karina had her birthday party last Saturday (2-28).  Several within that group wanted to revisit it.  I was not a fan of the music, so I wasn't a big dancer there, but I was down for hanging wherever everyone else was.  Also, this pub closes at 1 (due to being new), so I figured I could deal with the awful music for a couple of hours.

Lenin came to get us a little after 10, and we stopped by Mayrita's on the way.  We were there by 11.  It was the typical players: Alma/Lenin, Liliana/Renato, Rocio/Iván, Marisol/boyfriend whose name I never get right (his party was the cookout), Topete, Jair, Rene, Mayra and me.  Since it wasn't anyone's birthday (shocking I know!), and we hadn't reserved the back room, space was ultra-limited.  The music began terribly, and got worse.  Instead of standing, arms crossed, looking peeved, I decided to grab a stool.  I was not the only one sitting, but we were certainly in the minority.  

After what seemed like an eternity (though was probably closer to an hour) or techno (aka crap in my book) music, it turned to some US pop/rap.  I ricocheted off my stool and joined the others for the 20-30 minutes it allowed.  Unfortunately, it became junk again.  That, combined with the thousand degree room, made me take a break outside for a bit.  It was much cooler outside.  The guys we hang out with sweat like men.  They dance and are drenched within the first three or four songs.  That doesn't bother them.  They're guys.  The girls we hang out with straighten their hair, have lots of makeup on and wear jeans.  While dancing their hearts out, their hair and makeup stay picture perfect and I never seem to see a drop of sweat.  Since I sweat like a man, it was a nice break to go outside and not be so, well, wet.

When I came back in, the music was still Mexican, but it was at least reggaeton (rap, not reggae), so my body was not completely opposed to moving to it.  I was freshly cooled off, though, and not totally interested in warming myself back up.  Topete, however, had a different idea.  He yanked me off my chair and made me dance the next 5 or six songs with him.  He's the one that reminds me of Goolsby in so many ways, most recently because of his dancing abilities.  We had a good time dancing, even if I did get way hotter than I wanted.  For the second time that night.

I did put my foot down and reclaim my stool when the music got bad again.

At 1, they played "More than Words" which got me all sentimental.  That song was on a CD mix that I absolutely wore out my first summer in Spain.  I sang and reminisced.  Then we all headed out.  Apparently the original plan had been to go home and get in bed when Bavaria closed because on Sunday we wanted to leave at 11 to go to La Reforma, a beach town that has an island nearby that just happens to be where Lenin is from and still has relatives there.  

As we exited Bavaria, everyone had had so much fun that we decided to go to Iván's house.  This Iván is Rocio's boyfriend, who lives across the street from Jair and Rene.  The way this group of friends all came to be is so random and fun.  I'll explain it at some point in an entry.  Anyway, basically, we stood outside the house listening to music, dancing and drinking for another hour or so.  We got home around 3.  Another "early" night.  How in the world they thought they  would get everyone to go home at one is beyond me!