The Mexican Standoff

Before this gets started you have to imagine that that the story teller, as he was, is the tallest damn Venezuelan you've ever seen, and that as he told the story, even when he moved away from the keg and into the light, and even when you though you would see his face, he was always in shadow.. well maybe not.. but if you need a character Antonio Banderas is about the closest to my friend you probably know.. Similar accent, same profession, similar use of hair products to ensure a lack of split ends, similar thick accent.

Also this story features one of my close friends whom is know to myself and his peers simply as Mess. He enjoys a certain notoriety amongst those who know him as the life of the party, the before party and the after party and then the early morning crew the next day. He is a throughbred drinker and a man who will undoubtedly feature in more stories to come..

So there they were, in Cancun. It was a warm evening the spring breakers salty from the jet skis, skinned knees from the moped accidents.. all retired to the bars for the early evening drinking that would waste away into early morning drinking.. They had a table, some distance from the bar.. they were gathering the crew..getting all together for the night.. Spirits were high, it was another night of vacation, they had just finished the first round and the second round was coming.. nothing could go wrong..

And then it did.. they had noticed earlier an obnoxious man at the bar.. despite his loud joking.. physical demeanor and general unrullyness he seemed unnaturally well tolerated -they had figured him for a brother or cousin, some less successful relative of the owner. They had paid him no mind but were watching as the waiter, locking eye contact, rounded the bar with their drinks.. it was then that the man at the bar raised himself, halted the waiter and before their very eyes helped himself to all of their drinks.

Outrage and confusion ensued as they tried to make sense of what had just happened. Drinks.. no drinks.. a new player.. what to do.. confrontation was obviously imminent.. Someone started towards the man and they in general followed.. The Venezuelan (my story teller in L.A) stepped in.. the situation obviously demanded a certain level of diplomacy and coming off as a group of obnoxious Gringos in need of Mexican jail time did not seem advisable. In Spanish he addressed the man and waiter politely.. Excuse me those were our drinks, he said.. he looked at the man..

The man taken aback, was silent, but only momentarily.. "Call the owner he told the waiter.. we'll see whos drinks those were.." They stood around the man went half back to a conversation at the bar.. some moments later the waiter retured with the bar owner. Behind the bar owner a huge rugged looking bouncer. "What's going on? " the owner demanded looking over the assembly. " This man drank our drinks" said the Venezualan, "Ok" said the bar owner " This is what we will do, you will drink against my man.." the barowner motioned to the monster of an individual who had come out with him. If you can out drink him you can have anything that you want.." The bar owner had made his judgement, "Bring two beers" he instructed the waiter. The Venezuelan quickly translated what had just transpired to the group. An instantaneous and unanimous decision was made that only Mess possessed the skills to out drink the humungous Mexican. The waiter came back with two beers on his tray. The bar owner looked at the Venezuelan "Ready? " the Venezuelan motioned to Mess , "He will drink for us" said the Venezuelan. The barowner looked skepitally at Mess, doubting that the odd looking 5 ft something unimpressive Mess was going to be much of a challenge for his hired muscle. "OK" he nodded and Mess took his place across the tray. "Ready!" the bar owner raiswed his arm -"Go"

What happened next was quick. So quick in fact that it took everyone by surprise. In one fluid motion Mess swiped the beer from the tray and inhaled the entire pint. There was no pause, no break nothing, it was a matter of nanoseconds as the beer glass went in seamless orbit from the tray to Mess's mouth and back to the tray. The bouncer had not even begun to tilt his glass before Mess had triumphed. The bar owner was amazed.. "That was incredible" he said and the Venezuelan translated, "I have never seen anything like that.. you can have anything you want.." Mess exploded with his patented spastic sideways hand gesture known by those who know him, "Thirty beers.." he whined..and it was over. The barowner and his henchman left and the waiter brought the thirty beers. It took two trays and two trips but the debt was settled.

To this day no-one there or otherwise knows why or how Mess came to the decision of a thirty beer reward. Some speculate that since there were six people, five beers a persn was a good number.. but when you could have anything in the entire bar.. I'm sure there was more to it than that.. But strange things happen in Mexico.. and that is the story..