So Cinco de Mayo is a big deal around these parts….
Being from SoCal, I consider myself at least a quarter Mexican, and lemme tell you something these Yankees up here know nothing about (besides being polite….but I digress….)
So naturally, a couple of years after I wound up here, with a mean jones for a proper fiesta, I took it upon myself to educate a select few on the virtues of killer chicken fajitas, enchiladas suizas and margaritas made with hand squeezed lime juice, blood, sweat and tears (none of that margaritaville mix crap on my watch)…..
that's a LOT of freakin' limes, by the way.
I knocked on the wall of our co-op and hollered to Matt & Michele, who would soon become two of our very best friends, to come on over and do some shots, we made a couple of phone calls, the tiny apartment filled up and what resulted, was pretty much the stuff of infamy. In the years that followed, that “select few” turned into, basically, everyone we knew (and a handful of rif raf we'd never met before)….t-shirts were made, friends flew in from Vegas, Colorado & Virginia, my mother-in-law did jello shots, somebody always ended up on the pole…. Usually not very gracefully…. things got rowdy….
(Yes. There was a stripper pole in my basement. Don’t judge.)
Last year, I was committed to not dropping the ball and I tried to throw the party to end all parties, all with a 5 month old strapped to my chest in the Moby. Yikes.
Sadly, this year, things are a little wonky and I can’t quite find my mojo, but at the last minute, I decided that maybe there won’t be worm eating, maybe there won’t be pole dancing but BY GOD, there will be guacamole!!!!
Ole, bitches. Viva la fiesta.