Some percentage of my readers know that I'm currently in Mexico City for a set visit for una pocita pelicula I like to call "Resident Evil: Extinction." Well, actually I like to call it "Resident Evil: Annihilation," but that's just because I hadn't bothered to learn its name. Other acceptable titles include "3 Resident 3 Evil" and "Resident Evil: Mexico City Drift."
I only just arrived at the hotel and I don't know where I am. All I can say is that it's the place where they shot part of "The Matador." I haven't seen "The Matador," but rest-assured, that sucker's goin' on my Netflix queue ASAP.
I only have quick musings on my flight from LA on Mexicana Aero, particularly if I don't mention that the old woman sitting next to me had breath like death and that she started sleeping immediately and that with sleep came snoring and that with snoring came accelerated Dead Breath. Blech. Still, it's better than sitting next to Ron Jeremy.
At the risk of being called an Ugly American-Canadian, I feel inclined to muse on several facets of my lunch, or rather breakfast. I was offered the choice between cheese enchiladas and a ham-and-cheese burrito, which was already peculiar enough given that it was 8:30 in the morning. I went with the burrito due to my oft-maligned belief that a meal isn't really a meal if it doesn't include meat. However, unless "jamon" has changed meaning since I took Spanish in high school and college, my burrito had none of it. It had queso and some mysterious filling that wasn't really egg and wasn't really potato and actually wasn't identifiable as any food product. Again, at 8:30 in the morning? Muy odd. The burrito came with a roll and I haven't decided if that form of carb-mixing is acceptable in a "garlic bread goes with pasta" sort of way or if it's wacky in a "Subway sandwich with a roll" kind of way. In addition, there was a packet of "assorted cookies." The front of the package indicated, indeed, that there were myriad possibilities for the enclosed galletas. Instead, I got two chocolate chip cookies. The corpse sitting next to me got two chocolate chip cookies. The man sitting next to her? Also two chocolate chip cookies. That is hardly an assortment.
Anyway, there's probably something to be written about the prepaid "authorized taxi" system, which is supposed to reduce your odds of getting kidnapped. Heck, it appears to have worked.
That's about all. It's time to wander outside of the hotel to figure out where we actually are.
First, though, I'm gonna take some Advil (out of the house at 4:30 this morning) and drink a big glass of tapwater. Who am I to begrudge Montezuma his well-deserved revenge?
Any quick recommendations for things I should try to see in Mexico City Proper during our down-time tomorrow afternoon? Gracias por todos!
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