THE WORST 48 HOURS IN MEXICO

Luckily it only happens only once every six years.  People had been talking about it for six months,  as if it was the real Dooms Day.  Everyone was worried about it.  Election day was approaching !   They close all the bars, and all sales of alcohol are prohibited from Friday at midnight until midnight Sunday.  Why do they close on Friday, when the election isn't until Sunday?  Well ... because it is Mexico.

I had bought plenty of beer and checked to make sure I still had a few wine bottles left, so I was prepared.  Or, so I thought.  Saturday Jose (with the stand below my balcony) stopped and asked if he could borrow six beers to get him through the week end.  I said, "Sure! for I stocked up"  He answered that he had too, but his brother-in-law had drank it all that morning.

It was nice not to have the drunk that sleeps on the stairs to my building.  I don't know why he decided to live under my balcony, maybe because he can panhandle the tourists getting off the buses.  When he isn't talking to himself he sings.  He has the loudest booming voice I have ever heard.  He could have been a tenor at the opera (if he knew what that was).  He just disappeared.  I have no idea if he stayed home (assuming he actually has a home) or they locked him up.  Anyway it was much quieter with out him.

Sunday morning after watering my plants, hosing the patio and moping the floors I took off for my morning latte.  Of course all the bars and liquor stores were closed, but also a lot of restaurants decided not to open.  It was like a ghost town.   They have to return to their home states to vote, so I lot of the people who work here went home for the week end.  I was happy to find my coffee house still open. There were almost no cars on the streets. Then I noticed that the pick ups packed with kids and boom boxes weren't going up and down the streets blasting away.


 On the way back, Jose stopped me with a pleading look on his face.  Could he have more beer?  His brother in law had .....   Yeah, Yeah!  Mexicans never plan ahead for anything, even 48 hours with no booze.  I told him I would have to count what was left and he followed me to my apartment. Then, I remembered that my neighbor upstairs had invited me for Sunday dinner the night before.   I had eagerly
accepted as I normally spent every night in a bar and had nothing to do.   Checking my stock, I decided that since I wasn't going to be home anyway, he could have another six pack.  It was around 7:00 (just before I was invited for dinner) that my neighbor came down to ask if I had any wine.  Did she really forget about the elections, or was this dinner just a ruse for booze.

The dinner turned out to be quite nice.  She had barbequed and set up a table on her terrace.  Because her terrace has no cover, I was afraid it would rain any moment, but it did not.  After we finished my bottle of wine, it turned out she did have some wine.  Well sort of ... it was in a little carton container about the size of a small box of crackers.  I was tired anyway and excused myself.  When I got home I found I still had two bottles of beer left and one bottle of wine, so I survived the 48 hours.

All in all, I would say that I rather enjoyed it.   The town was extremely quiet.  The people getting on and off the buses made no noise.  Mexicans really have no idea what to do or how to behave when they are sober.  So mark down the date of the first Sunday in July, in 2018. But if you bring your own booze, it is really not that bad.

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