Cinco de Mayo-Special
Cinco de Mayo started innocently enough with a trip down to Southwest Detroit to see some of the festivities. Clark Park was full of families watching traditional Mexican song and dance, street vendors were selling various items, and obligatory hippie or neo-Marxist could be found pushing petitions......
....but everyone knows that the main focus of Cinco de Mayo is getting ripped under the guise of exploring(exploiting?) Mexican heritage. And with little shame, I admit that A and I were no different in our intentions.
Adela's went all out for Cinco De Mayo, setting up a tent in the parking lot offering a lot of specials. While we didn't stick around too long, we managed to meet up with a handful of people and choked back a few shots of cheap tequila and a few bottles of cold chihuahua piss (Corona). From there it was back to Vernor Street....
...a nice example of my favorite Mexican export. Men and women were hanging out of cars, waving Mexican flags all up and down Vernor and some of the side streets.
We ducked into El Chaparral for a few more drinks. At this point, I think A was behind the camera.
Every time I think I'm starting to tire of El Chaparral, someone like 16.32.84.13.55 will come through with some wack shit that you just don't get anywhere else. This guy's got some crazy Korean war stories and apparently a fondness for rubbing my head while he recalls memories of his dead wife 'Irish Rose'. It was fun further liquoring
up this guy...
...behind the iron gate is where the real fun at Chaparral takes place...
...but seeing as how it was only 6pm nothing was going on in the main room...
...but to our surprise, the igloo cooler toting Tamale Fairy showed up with some steaming hot tamales. We think this guy makes them in his basement or garage and then drags them around to all the bars in an attempt to sell them.
Our boy Carlos the bar manager was in rare form that night, hitting on H and telling her about his 13 children, and yelling at some broad on the other end of his cell phone. Carlos is a bad motherfucker, and H still owes him a dance.
....somehow, the hat seemed like a good idea at the time.
This is where things get blurry, and the pictures end. I vaguely remember hanging out back at H's house in Southwest, and then getting a 40 oz of Camo and heading over to newly opened artists loft in Eastern Market. From there, it was off to the Adult show at the Magic Stick where, in a booze fueled burst of energy, I tried picking a Detroit Roller Derby girl up over my shoulder but instead ended up pile driving her into the beer soaked, grime cake floor in front of the stage.
....but everyone knows that the main focus of Cinco de Mayo is getting ripped under the guise of exploring(exploiting?) Mexican heritage. And with little shame, I admit that A and I were no different in our intentions.
Adela's went all out for Cinco De Mayo, setting up a tent in the parking lot offering a lot of specials. While we didn't stick around too long, we managed to meet up with a handful of people and choked back a few shots of cheap tequila and a few bottles of cold chihuahua piss (Corona). From there it was back to Vernor Street....
...a nice example of my favorite Mexican export. Men and women were hanging out of cars, waving Mexican flags all up and down Vernor and some of the side streets.
We ducked into El Chaparral for a few more drinks. At this point, I think A was behind the camera.
Every time I think I'm starting to tire of El Chaparral, someone like 16.32.84.13.55 will come through with some wack shit that you just don't get anywhere else. This guy's got some crazy Korean war stories and apparently a fondness for rubbing my head while he recalls memories of his dead wife 'Irish Rose'. It was fun further liquoring
up this guy...
...behind the iron gate is where the real fun at Chaparral takes place...
...but seeing as how it was only 6pm nothing was going on in the main room...
...but to our surprise, the igloo cooler toting Tamale Fairy showed up with some steaming hot tamales. We think this guy makes them in his basement or garage and then drags them around to all the bars in an attempt to sell them.
Our boy Carlos the bar manager was in rare form that night, hitting on H and telling her about his 13 children, and yelling at some broad on the other end of his cell phone. Carlos is a bad motherfucker, and H still owes him a dance.
....somehow, the hat seemed like a good idea at the time.
This is where things get blurry, and the pictures end. I vaguely remember hanging out back at H's house in Southwest, and then getting a 40 oz of Camo and heading over to newly opened artists loft in Eastern Market. From there, it was off to the Adult show at the Magic Stick where, in a booze fueled burst of energy, I tried picking a Detroit Roller Derby girl up over my shoulder but instead ended up pile driving her into the beer soaked, grime cake floor in front of the stage.
Labels: carlos, cinco de mayo, el chapparal, malt liquor, tequila
