The Mexican Nightlife

So (Ugh!  There it is again!) at 10:15, when I was dressed and chilling and Ashley was asleep on the bed in not her going out clothes, Paloma called and said they were there.  Awesome.  So Ashley throws on her dress and down we go.  We get some cat calls/"qué guapas" and stand outside the two cars.  There are two new people joining us.  One is Nacho.  He was in Tepoztlán in November, too.  He's actually the one they "warned" me about before he got there.  They told me to say I was from Chihuahua or somewhere else in Mexico and not to say I was from the US.  And to speak as little as possible.  I got really nervous about that.  I didn't really ever understand it while I was there.  After this night in DF, though, I realized that since he lived in the US off and on for 15 years, he thinks he knows everything.  As in, he thinks he can make a generalization about Americans (even a prejudiced, stereotype) because he's been there.

Like he would like it if I did the same about Mexicans!

Anyway, the other person to join us was Diana (I think was her name).  Diana was an ex-girlfriend of Paloma's, and both Chory and Beto wanted to meet her.  Chory, in fact, had been begging Paloma to call her all day while we were at the Lions Desert.

The girls piled in the car with Paloma and the guys with Chory.

We drove toward the Zócalo and parked on the street.  

We walked into this bar/club/museum that kind of reminded me of Graham in Nashville, but only because it was four floors.  The first three were dedicated to the museum I think.  

As we first walked in, we didn't have to pay (and I don't think the guys did either).  There was a place to leave your purse if you didn't want to dance with all your baggage.  Diana handed me her wallet because I was not about to leave my purse there.  Turns out, though that they were full, so she had to keep hers, too.  Ever the gentleman, Chory carried it for her.  Ha!

We got seated at a table as far from the outside dance floor as possible.  The inside was smoke free, which I have found is true in most public places here.  After about five minutes there, there was a table closer to the dance floor that became available.  We moved.

I think I've explained before how in Mexico you just buy the whole bottle of liquor.  Chory and Nacho negotiated and took care of that.  We shared it at the table until it was gone, and then the boys turned to beer.
L-R: Beto, Diana, Ashley, Me, Paloma, Nacho, Goofy Chory who can't take a normal picture.

The girls.

At one point, Ashley and I went to the bathroom.  While there, Paloma tried some photographic art.  He probably took 20 pictures.  I was not impressed with his artistic ability, but it did make me laugh.

At one point, we had seen a dorky guy dressed in all white making googly eyes at the table.  Luckily, we had Paloma and Beto as buffers.  Well, when Beto got up to go dance, the guy made his way over, sat down next to Ashley and chatted her ear off, asking her to dance; she declined.  After about five minutes there, he left.  The whole table gave her a hard time, told her she should've danced with him.

Later, we got up to go to the bathroom and they informed us we'd have to go to the first floor.  I think it had something to do with crowding around the door (like in an airplane), but who knows the logic.

Well, Mr. Dressed-in-White followed us out.  He asked me my name, if I were from Culiacán (Thanks, Ashley!), if I wanted to dance.  Then he told us there were bathrooms on every floor, not just the first floor, so we didn't have to go all the way down and then back up.  When we came back out there he was waiting, ready to strike up conversation again.  Was I sure I didn't want to dance?  Why were we so serious (the question I hate most in this country)?  Finally we got back to our table and people watching.

The other person we people watched (we had watched Dressed-in-White putting out the vibe before he got the guts to come talk) was this tall blonde we called "Sveden," kind of as a tribute to Kara who said that all the time in college.  

At one point, Nacho started making racial stereotypes about several different categories in the US.  Needless to say, we kinda got into it big time.  He's one who thinks he has two mouths and only one ear.  He would never let me finish, or would change what I said trying to make it fit what he was saying.  I was not happy with him.  Paloma had told me he's 70% gringo and 30% Mexican.  Or at least 50/50.  I asked him if this annoying part was the gringo.  Paloma was pretty much cracking up watching me go back and forth, line for line with Nacho.  Finally I gave up.  I got quiet and totally ignored Nacho.  Paloma was like, "You should've done that a long time ago!"

At 2:00, the place closed, so we finished the drinks, went on the dance floor for the last two songs.  I hadn't particularly wanted to dance early on, but dancing at the end made me wish we had danced more.  The music, though, was the awful techno without any relief.  Ashley was like, "How are you supposed to dance to this?!"  

This is what I'm saying.
We made our way outside, and like any Mexican gathering, we couldn't leave right then.  We stood outside, basically with the same crowd as from the inside of the bar.  We weren't trying to make a new plan; we just weren't ready to go home yet.

Here began the photo shoot.  Above: Beto, me, Paloma, Nacho

We took what seems like a thousand pictures outside.  
Our boy Beto, who is kind of a caretaker.  He's totally lovable.
This is where the thousand pictures began.  Paloma refused to take a normal picture.  We literally took about 9 of the three of us trying to get one good one.  If we could get him to not make a stupid face (see above), either my eyes would be closed or squinty (see above), Ashley would be making a less than enthused face (see above), or someone would be in the back ruining the picture.  It was kind of a nightmare and finally I said that Ashley and I could take our own picture, minus Paloma.
On last group shot before we left.

We all piled into the cars and drove all around DF.  This time, Paloma traded Diana to Chory's car for Beto.  We were literally about 10 minutes from our hotel, so the fact that we drove for about 45 was just to listen to music and be together.  Paloma asked if we were hungry, but who eats at 3 am?

We got to the hotel and sat in front of it for about 20 more minutes.  Chory's car pulled up and they had dropped off Diana.  

We all said our goodbyes and the boys fussed at me for not calling them earlier in the week when we had arrived.  Chory fussed at me for not using his house in Tepoztlán.  They made me promise to call as soon as I was there the next time.  I promised.

When we got to the room, it was 4 am.  Our alarm was set for 6 to get showers and be ready to leave the hotel before seven.

Misery.

But fun.