August 2021 – Playa Del Carmen, MX

During a travel stall, a friend reached out and asked if another friend and I would be interested in joining her and her friend in Playa Del Carmen. We had never met this friend, but she had a whole house in Mexico for a month, so the obvious answer was yes!

My friend was upfront that she was a little nervous about how her friend and I would get a long, it was an overall: you will either love each other or hate each other situation.

I decided to hope for the best, plan for the worst and booked a one way ticket to Mexico.

It took about 5 minutes to establish we loved each other and I decided to stay for 2 more weeks after the other girls left.

Before leaving, our friends sat us down on the couch and gave us a whole lecture about “behaving” and not being “too wild”… no idea what would have given them even the slightest inkling we needed to hear that…

I had been landlocked in NYC for a few months and she was in a swirling situationship, so naturally PDC was the ideal place to re-awaken the International Tinderella… and bring my new friend along for the ride.

When I matched with the witty Parisian, it was quick chemistry; great banter, witty and funny conversation, he was confident and talked about being rather successful, and he was cute enough.

It just so happened that he was also with a friend – so I signed us all up for a double date. My new friend was down for the adventure, with zero expectations and didn’t even ask for a picture of her potential Parisian Prince Charming (which she was sure he was not).

We made plans to meet up at a tiki bar and then bar hop from there. My friend and I got there first and I sat facing the door.

As soon as I recognized our dates had I arrived I said “holy shit” and she said “is he hot?”….

“Yes… Yours.”

This man was goooooor-geous.

Of course, this tall glass of fine French wine was not at all my friend’s type and was very much mine… oh, the irony.

I managed to pick my jaw up off the table quick enough to offer a greeting and introduction to both and try to hide my clear physical attraction to my date’s friend.

After we all settled in at the table, the guys ordered some food and we all ordered some drinks. Things seemed to be going pretty well, until my date and I got in to a debate about feminism, but nothing that we couldn’t end and move past with some light banter and a little humor.

Apparently his views of women becoming “too dominant” did not extend to finances.

When the bill came, that was 75% things they ordered, that my friend and I took maybe 4 bites of, his friend said (in French) that he would pay, and my date said (in French) “no, we can split it”. As I was thinking how kind it was of them to cover our drinks and 4 bites, my date told the waitress WE would be splitting it (we as in us and them).

I have no issue splitting checks, covering myself, etc but telling your friend NOT to pay for us, then having us cover YOUR stuff is ick.

But, of course I had JUST debated feminism with this man and I wasn’t about to bicker of the bill, so I pulled out my card and paid. After a quick bathroom chat, my friend and I decided we were already out and they weren’t terrible company, and the friend was actually nice and interesting enough (and very nice to look at) so we decided to go have one more drink with them, since they were hype to go to this “really cool club”.

We walked the 15 minutes to the club in on and off silence, the fun witty guy I had been bantering with on the interwebs seemed to have stayed behind and been replaced by this dry, overly cocky, guy in a Lacoste Polo and jeans he kept complaining were too hot… yeah, … we are in Mexico… in August.

As we approached our destination, I realized where we were going: an extremely overhyped “club” with a line of 20somethings wrapped around the block.

Absolutely not.

It was a clear absolutely not, for all of us, except my date… who still seemed committed to going regardless of him being old enough to be the father of half the line… and dressed like it too.

My friend and I looked at each other and seemed to have an immediate agreement that we were done with this “date”. I took in a few more visual gulps of the fine friend and said that we were just going to go to the bar on the corner and have a few drinks, but told them to enjoy the club.

The hot friend made the decision for both of them that they would be coming with us. This somehow prompted my date to suggest we all just go back to their place and have some “drinks and fun”. I audibly laughed. My friend visibly rolled her eyes and we started walking toward the bar on the corner… they followed.

We sat at a table and were handed menus that my friend and I didn’t need: 2 margaritas please. My date then proceeds to ask 112 questions about the “beer list” (which consisted of maybe 8 beers, half of which were pretty basic this was a pretty standard bar in Mexico, not a craft brewery). They then order some “specialty” beer.

As we are waiting for our drinks, having a pretty forced and quite dry conversation, a group of rowdy tourists come in and my date makes a douchey comment about “those Americans”… ummm…

That is until one of them flashed the bartender for free shots and he then encouraged my friend and I to do the same. I very clearly told him he will never see these American boobies, ever.

We get our drinks, they each take a sip of their beer and declare it is terrible, my friend and I try it and it is very drinkable – not fantastic, but certainly not worth sending back and wasting so we say we will drink them, which will also hopefully make the next 20 minutes until we can ditch these guys more tolerable.

As we basically down our margaritas like shots and pound the beers like frat boys trying to finish and bounce, my date still seems to think we are going to go “have some fun” and keeps saying how they have a rooftop and drinks at their place.

As we were wrapping up our drinks and dry as the Sahara conversation, the waiter comes over with separate, and itemized bills (not sure if he just knew, or if these guys asked for it separated). As my friend is pulling out her card to pay and give us our freedom, my date calls the waiter back over and tells him there is a mistake: THEY didn’t have the beers, WE did.

The waiter, my friend, and I all looked at each other in a unified “is this guy serious?”. The waiter reluctantly took their bill back and brought us each a new one. My friend paid and we started to leave.

They caught up with us and my date had the actual audacity to still believe we were going home with them until I said “We are going to continue our night at another bar” and we just walked away.

Once we rounded the corner and made sure they hadn’t followed us, we stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before bursting in to “what the actual f*ck just happened” laughter.

We laughed all the way to our favorite local divey club (no line, no kids), where Zaddy K came and met us (and paid for all our drinks) and we danced in the street in the pouring rain drunk off of rejected beers and feminism.