Viva la Mexico! (740 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 2 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by disAbled (View user info) at 2004-08-24 13:27:36 EDT
Gravity Bong, Kill Bill 2, Open Bar, Coke Deals, Electric Chair, Bull Riding, Police Brutality, Public Display of Nausea, and Vomit From a Moving Vehicle or My Introduction to 'Border Hopping.'
Thursday afternoon was the worst time of the week. It didn't have the hopeless misery of Monday, but it was just close enough to the weekend to become a tantalizing torture. Brandon passed me on the stairwell on my way to some horribly boring class.
"Let's go to Mexico this weekend." It wasn't really a question or an offer. It was a statement of future events. Something like, "The sun will rise tomorrow." I contemplated this thought for about two seconds and shrugged my shoulders.
"I'll have to go by the bank tomorrow afternoon." Class sucked.
28 hours later we were speeding down the highway towards Dallas. Cross Canadian Ragweed was blaring from Brandon's factory speakers and I was riding a wistful flashback to the previous week. I had attended my first Ozzfest, and it was very good.
"So, where exactly are we going?" It was really a pointless question. It didn't matter much because I had no idea what any Mexican towns were like, and each was equally likely to result in a night of severe drunkenness.
"Well, first off we're gonna stop by Abilene so I can shoot the shit with some buddies. We'll stay there tonight. Tomorrow, we'll head to Acuna and check out the Up and Down club." That's right, Acuna. You may recognize the name as it was recently referenced in Kill Bill 2. That's the place where the Mexican Pimp kept his Courtney Love looking whore. At the time, though, Kill Bill had not even been conceived and Acuna meant about as much to me as 'Semi-conductor Electron Displacement.' Well, it actually meant less because I had just learned a little about said theory.
On the way into Abilene we smoked a few bowls while Brandon told us about Acuna. I wrote off everything he said because it is well known that West Texans are famous liars. John was listening raptly from the back seat. John seemed like a pretty strait laced guy. He wouldn't smoke up and he didn't drink beer. Little did we know that John was a closet case booze hound. We were wondering why he wanted to go to Mexico, but it didn't concern us much.
Abilene is an 8 hour drive from Longview. Really, it is about half way through Texas. Texas is very wide. The distance from El Paso to Longview is about equal to the distance from Spokane to San Francisco. Unfortunately, there is nothing to look at as you drive in Texas, so the trip seems much longer than it is.
Brandon explained to us that we weren't actually going to Abilene. He lived in a little suburb called Merkel. I laughed and told him he looked like he came from a West Texas Town called Merkel. Brandon just replied with his typical drawn out, "Shit..." We arrived in Merkel at about 11 o'clock and slept at one of Brandon's friends house. The friend was a cool guy and very hospitable. We had a beer and the two Merkelites discussed the happenings of their quiet, backwards town. Less than one year later our kind host would be killed by a drunk driver. Brandon and his friends brother went on a week long bender, as most Texans do after funerals, and both nearly died of alcohol poisoning.
The next afternoon found us at another friends house. Chase, Brandon's brother met us there. He would be accompanying us to Mexico. As the door opened to greet us, thick acrid smoke poured out of the house.
"Smells like Mary Jane stopped by for a visit," Brandon drawled with an evil gleam in his eye. It may be noted at this point that I had been smoking up for a month or less. Being fairly new to the game, I entered the house with a little trepidation and a lot of anticipation.
The sight that greeted me was 6 people sitting around the kitchen table cleaning a huge pile of green. They were of various gender, race, and size leaving me to marvel at the diversity of a small West Texas town. The joint passing commenced, and though I was probably informed of endless details and intricacies of the history and protocol of West Texas, all of that information was lost in the haze that settled over the living room. After about 2 hours, I was fairly stoned. Brandon was in a zone talking to his old friends, and John looked quite bored.
Suddenly Heath, on of Brandon's oldest friends, said, "Let's hit the Gravity Bong!" A little background information. A gravity bong was a milk jug with the bottom cut out. The jug was suspended in a sink full of water and pushed down until the water was within an inch of the cap. The cap was carefully fitted with a bowl, packed with marijuana, and gingerly secured on the jug. While lighting the bud, the jug was drawn upward allowing suction to fill the enclosure with smoke. After all these preparations were completed, a user would quickly pull off the cap, put his mouth over the orifice, and push the jug down while inhaling. The result was that the water would force nearly a gallon of smoke into the lungs, and the user would get higher than fuck.
Everybody coughed their heads off. When it was my turn, I coughed my head off. It felt like I had inhaled a lung-full of needles and razors. A steady buzzing filled my ears, and I reeled back to lean against the counter. John hit the gravity bong. We were all shocked, but didn't show it because we didn't want to discourage him. John only got about a quarter of the smoke before collapsing to the floor in a fetal position and coughing for 10 minutes. When Heath hit it, he held the smoke for a while before letting out a small, "Heh." No one could believe it. He didn't cough. Two seconds later Heath was coughing so hard he spit black phlegm into the bong water.
I couldn't remember what happened the next two hours, because I was in a world of my own. Paranoia set in. I believed my lungs were so seared that they were incapable of absorbing oxygen. For two hours I sat in a chair waiting to suffocate while studying posters of the Deftones and Mudvayne. John was curled up on the couch and wouldn't say a word. Jonathan Davis sat on a nearby poster and seemed to lecture me on the irresponsibility of smoking THC.
Brandon appeared in the living room and said, "Let's go."
We were in Chase's car heading down the freeway when we all became instantly aware of cotton-mouth. If you have ever experienced cotton-mouth, you know how impossible it is to ignore. I was still under suspicion that my lungs would fail and any minute. John wouldn't say a word. A mini-mart appeared on the side of the road, and Chase slammed the breaks. We all bought a lot of junk food. John spent 10 bucks on sugary food and ate it all. He later claimed that he didn't get high at all. The mini fudge doughnuts betrayed him. We all knew.
An American car should never be parked in Mexico, because it may never be seen again. Consequently there are about 50 taxi services just over the border from Acuna. The car was parked in a lighted lot, Chase got a number, and the four of us piled into a 7-passenger van with 11 other people.
Acuna was one of the shittiest cities I have ever seen. It made El Paso look like a resort community. The town basically consisted of 4 parallel streets 6 blocks long packed shoulder to shoulder with clubs. Brandon declared that we would head to the Up and Down club first. My mouth had been watering from the moment we crossed the border, and so I obligingly followed.
The Up and Down club was called such because it was three stories tall. The bottom floor was a dance area and entrance. The second floor was the bar. The third was another bar and the roof. A patron would walk up the stairs to the bar, and when he became to shit-faced to walk, he would slide down a fire-pole or slide to dance on the bottom floor. The Up and Down club had a 10 dollar cover-charge. There was no way I was going to pay 10 dollars to get into a club that looked as wore down and shitty as this one looked. Brandon threw me a condescending look and said, "Man, just pay it. You'll be glad ya did..." I paid.
For 10 dollars the bouncer stamped our hands with invisible ink that showed under a black light. I also discovered that those 10 clams got me unlimited drinks at the bar. 3 different kind of tequila cocktails, tequila shots, and Corona were available. My liver quivered. It would be a long night.
To be concluded.
User Reviews
Submitted by krushul (user info) at 2004-08-24 21:18:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
definitely sounds like my idea of a good time...so far.
Submitted by sketch9 (user info) at 2004-08-24 19:56:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
gravity bongs rock. that is all.
Submitted by runninginplace (user info) at 2004-08-24 15:13:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
acuna: says it all
are we going to see bribing of federalis, donkey sex, and drunken idiots? we had better, or you didn't do it right
Submitted by H-bomb (user info) at 2004-08-24 15:09:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MeatJerky (user info) at 2004-08-24 14:04:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Mmmmmm....Gravity.