My recent excursion to Mexico was seeped in mezcal. Immediately upon arrival, Sydney and I quickly became students in the making, acquisition, discernment, and consumption of tequila. We were horrified to discover that we were abysmally behind in our studies and would require remedial intervention.
Dessert tequila? What is this?
Throwing back shots in every gift shop you enter is a GOOD idea?
Accompanying a young teenager to a tequila tasting is NOT illegal?
When you are in Mexico, everything a young American girl learns about tequila is swiftly tossed out the window of an unregistered shuttle van that speeds with abandon down a crowded city street, taking no heed of the occasionally posted signs to "alto." We knew we were in treble when we walked in (to that first gift shop).
Rule #1: Don't drink with strangers.
The loophole for this is to call everyone amigas or familia.
Rule #2: Drinking occurs in restaurant establishments, bars, or people's homes.
Apparently, the entire country of Mexico is a drinking-approved zone.
Sydney and I were in Cabo less than 24 hours and we were drinking with strangers in the back of a gift shop. Brad Mosiman was on the phone with the American consulate but we were already on our way to our second tequila tasting. Tracking our movement on Google Maps was more like tracking the little ball on Pong.
Rule #3: Drinking tequila requires a lot of accessories and dramatic facial emoting.
Taking a traditional tequila shot should be very simple and straight-forward. Shouting "Woo!" is unnecessary and embarrassing.
Rule #4: All tequila is basically the same.
WHAT WERE WE THINKING?!?!?
"Wait. There's dessert tequila?!?!"
Along with our new friend Trudi from Detroit and her 14-year-old son, TJ, Sydney and I were wrestled into yet another back room in Mexico. Meanwhile, Brad Mosiman was going Liam-Neeson back home, ready to employ his particular set of skills to extract his family from danger. Unfortunately, his family had decided to become bffs with danger. Maybe Brad Mosiman would have better luck extracting Trudi and TJ. Okay. NOT Trudi. But TJ was BEGGING to get out of there.
Speaking of extraction, once Sydney and I were confident of our ability to extract tequila from the blue agave plant, we moved onto practicing our newly-developed tequila-tasting strategy. Imagine the counter at the bar as a fence-line of bottles set up as targets for the seasoned gunslinger. Sydney and I slowly but methodically worked our way down the picket-wire.
from "Woo!"-ing as recommended by our visiting country's customs), he was relieved when we transitioned to the restaurant section so he could enjoy his chicken tenders. Sydney, Trudi, and I were uncharacteristically boisterous. The surrounding patrons and passing staff delighted in our animated conversation and loud laughter. TJ, for some reason, did not seem to want to join in our revelry.
As our afternoon concluded, our server encouraged us to capture this memory at their photo station.
Who wouldn't want to do THAT?!? (TJ)
Giggling, Sydney, Trudi, and I raced over, vying for a position next to the statue of a resting vaquero. Caught up in the moment and forgetting that I was in the presence of an impressionable young person, I, to the approval of restaurant guests, moved to dramatically straddle the statue (in the most lady-like way possible)...fortunately, good sense and bad balance prevailed.
Our memory was made.
Treasured...for some. Trauma...for one.
We said a fond farewell to our new friends. Frustrated that I wasn't able to elicit even a smidgen of a smile from TJ, I tried once more. "Hope you didn't have too terrible of a time," I said to the reticent teen, "It's just how we roll." Sydney laughed. "Mom...you got it wrong." She winked at TJ. "It's how I roll." TJ grinned at her, saluting us by tipping those beautiful browns up to the sky.
He was going to miss us.
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