In continuing with my guest blogger series, today is a special treat. Monsieur Ennui (French meaning never-ending wanderlust, um, I had to look it up) brings us his own tale about his misadventures in our good neighbor to the south. The note delivering his copy indicates he is back at it in Mexico. Or did they simply extradite him, LOL? Like him, his style is relaxed and jovial and, also like him, exudes a well-read quality in the copious use of the Wolf-esque ellipses circa "Bonfire of the Vanities." Hint: There few periods in the entire piece. Monsieur Ennui is a professional writer of travelogues and short stories. He says, "I travel, I get into trouble, I get out of trouble and I do it with style..."

After reading today's entry, I can see why. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

By Monsieur Ennui

OK, so having spoken to a friend headed on a trip to Mexico I begin to wax nostalgic, and I find myself thinking of a trip south of the border with a few friends...

Armed with, too much time on our hands, the clothes on our backs, a full tank of gas and very "lax" border restrictions we found ourselves in Mexico buying every firework known to man, visiting restaurants, clubs, bars and other locations of little to no repute...all was good, we had explosives, cheap, delicious food, good music, attractive people, cheaper alcohol and a midget (don't ask but hey he did get us all the aforementioned items)...it was utopia as we weren't all that picky...

Soooo, there we are hanging out with our midget friend, eating, drinking and being merry, when we decide as we had done everyday before to head to a club...well this club seemed good to go. Large, fun, attractive women, good music...and unfortunately a very protective local male population...VERY...so there we are a group of OBVIOUSLY not locals, getting our cha-cha on, in this club catching the eyes of the local ladies (if I must say so myself and it is my story...) and arousing the ire of the local "we don't dance with women we just look tough" guys...so unbeknownst to our international Casanova crew of fun lovers, we were gaining an audience of said non-dancing tough guys...so one of the more astute (sober) of the bunch notices and alerts us...

OK right now...right here for any of you super tough "I would just start kicking ass" guys, please take a nap for awhile as I finish my tale...


Photo Courtesy of Monsieur Ennui

Anyway, being my normal slow-to-recognize-danger self, I tell our height-challenged friend to buy a round of beer(did I mention the drinks were cheap) for our ever leering group of locals, to which he replied "you should run soon"...now that probably should have been a sign danger was imminent but for whatever reason I just paid for an ass-ton of Corona's and started handing them out...so I basically established that I'm the guy with money to spare who can't take a hint, in a hostile environment, which lead to more attention from the female population and thusly more attention from the "we don't like you here" gang...alcohol+angry guys=problems...so anyway we go from being leered at to realizing we weren't drunk enough to think that 4 vs. 40 are good odds and so began to make our way out to the parking lot, led by our trusty not-so-tall guide...

Next thing you know there's some pushing, some cursing and then the inevitable punches and fighting...again with us being outnumbered things were on course to end tragically very soon. Now as I was in no way eager to have our demise be the subject of cautionary tales to future travelers, I did the only thing I could do...I ran to our car and began lighting every firework purchased and lobbing them right at the group while we piled in the car, resulting in very dramatic explosions a couple of fires and who knows what else...which worked wonders stopping the fight...But did bring the sound of sirens...exit stage left...quick fast, on the double, in a hurry...cue a mad dash to take everything from our hotel room and head for the border which would have been great if we had been sober at the time or knew where the hell we were going...lucky for us we did have the midget and he put us on the right path...so we felt after our fracas it would only be right if we brought him with us back across the border and showed him how we party on our side...

That may have been a good idea if we didn't all have bruises, black eyes, enough fireworks to blow up Detroit and enough Tequila to keep all of Boston tipsy in our trunk and a no-English-speaking midget without papers, whatsoever, in the backseat...

Three days later we walked across the border with a bottle of Tequila each, no car, fireworks or midget, but great memories and the desire to do it all again...