So, me and the possy (Franklin and Teddy) get off the plane and headed over to immigration. It was getting late and everybody was tired. Plus, It was Friday night, so the lines were long and it seemed as tho the customs agents didn’t give a good got damn of who was coming into or out of their country. Mexico is and was wide the f*ck open. If you had a pulse, a clean pair of draws, and $20. They were letting you in! You don’t even need a covid test. Just say, “Olah amigo pour for four!” (Or what however the hell you say it.) They will look you in your eye, smile and hit you with the, “Si!” not knowing what the hell you are talking about. But, once they do that, then got dammit, you in there!
When you’re walking through rental car row, you will have to have tunnel vision and a stern focus; because those folk at the rental car booths are aggressive as hell. As I walked through the door to enter the gauntlet, that music that they be playing in the movie 300? You know, that dramatic ass music where them white folks be humming or singing in that celtic tone…? Where they be playing them violins or horns and shit? An the white man with that raspy voice be narrating? Getting you all hyped and stuff.
Well, that’s what happened to me. Music started playing from nowhere, I immediately started walking in slow motion? Then, a voice from the heavens started narrating my movements out of nowhere. Confetti started falling from the sky. People around me were in a mad dash to their destination. An before I knew it, in the distance, one of the rental car people saw my chocolate, statuesque manly shoulders moving so effortlessly towards him. He attempted to look into my darkly tented shades, hoping to catch a glimpse of mahogany colored eyes and yet, he was at a disadvantage. The fellas and I continued to walk through the maze of rental car booths and there he stood. The one rental car person who had the audacity to step to me and grab my shoulder. He said to me, “Hey, my friend! Come, come come!” What he didn’t know was that I had just watched, “The next Karate Kid with Jaden Smith” So my negro senses were heightened. When he touched me, my inner power ranger had was activated. The narration and horns that were playing in my head had reached a crescendo. Before I knew it, I grabbed that some of ma b*tches hand and “yeet!” I damn near did a flying scissor monkey kick on his ass. But I didn’t, I waxed on waxed off that muthafuckas hand so got damn fast, he didn’t know what to do.
We finally made it outside and our shuttle to the resort wasn’t there. We were going to get a cab, but this bald headed, moled faced looking heffa wanted to charge us $120 to go 35 minutes to our hotel. Franklin told her, “Fuck no!” Teddy and I both concured and caught a shuttle to a rental car hub. We reserved a car for $39/Day, which totaled $116 for the weekend using priceline. When we got to, “Fox Rental Car” they try and force you to get the insurance. Which was $53/Day on top of the rental fee. So they wanted like $260 some dollars after taxes and fees for the weekend! We told them hell no and bidded them a fond good bye. We went back to the airport to get a cab. Franklin speaks fluid Spanish and I don’t know what he told this man. But I heard the words, “Nagro (which means ni**a), la culata (which means butt), and trabajo de mano! (Which means hand job)” Now I’m not sure what the hell he promised this man, but I was pretty sure that one of us was going to have to do some strange stuff before the night was over with. With that being said, I’m a christian, and I don’t do stuff like that, especially to no menz! But my cousin… Now if my cousin was here, he would say, “I got this one cuzzo!” *smacks lips*” (If you read this cuzzo, I love you)
So long story short, we got a ride to the hotel for $80. It was located in the center of the action of Playa Del Carmen.
Part 2 of Day 1 coming soon.