Listen to your Mother!

Like most mothers, my Mom passed on some golden rules to live by - Don't run with scissors, never open the oven door while your cake is baking ...and being a frequent visitor south of the border, Always look down when walking in Mexico. As I ponder the dark blue bruise on my palm and my swollen knees this morning I would have to add RUNNING to this bit of sound advice. How did this happen? Well, yesterday started uneventfully enough with a rare blanket of fog drifting in from Zihuatanejo Bay. After breakfast we went about securing three lounge chairs at Rossys on the beach. The beer was cold and the quesidillas greasy and tasty. All was good. Continuing with our daily routine, a late afternoon siesta was followed by dinner at one of the restaurants that line the Playa Principal (the main beach in downtown Zih). We then wandered the streets and took in the bustling Sunday night scene around the basketball court. After a glass of wine at Paccolos we headed over to Bandidos where we intended to have one drink and head home. (I think my mom had a rule about that too) Marcos, the owner, has a keyboard player that warms up the bar crowd before the salsa band starts at 10pm. So we sat sipping our wine and enjoying an eclectic mix of latin hits and 70s rock with a few show tunes thrown in for good measure. Your standard smaltzy piano bar fare. Our old friend Enrique (Bandidos famous dancing waiter) was there, showing off his fancy motorcycle and making the young gringas swoon.
About this time the piano player started an energetic rendition of "New York, New York" and Enrique asked me to dance. There is something that comes over me when this guy starts dancing with me.. we swooped and twirled and did our best impression of "Dancing with the Stars". My yoga practice came into play as he flipped me backwards time and time again. We finished the song with a triumphant finale - Enrique tossed me into a backbend over his shoulder and ala "ice dancing pairs" hoisted me into the air and off the dance floor... I was sure that Cirque de Soleil would be calling any minute.
We happily paid our bill and headed out into the night air. As we looked down the street to hail a cab Gerry excitedly pointed out two Vaccaros on horseback. In full cowboy regalia they made their way down Calle Cindo de Mayo. My camera stubbornly refused to exit my purse...THIS WAS A GREAT PHOTO OP!! I had to get this picture. They rode down and around the corner. I took off running and "boys", Gerry and Daniel, followed in hot pursuit. So here I was running.. in the dark,..two men frantically trying to keep up with me ..through the streets of Zihuatanejo just to get a photo of a couple of drunk cowboys. I believe at this point I had now violated about 10 of my mom's rules to live by. I brushed by the crowds of late night locals and saw the horses approaching. I picked up speed as I came to the end of my quest when suddenly I was face down on the pavement.. camera skittering across the cement.. bouncers from a nearby nightclub helping me to my feet.. shocked looks on everyone's faces. I watched the horses make their way down the street and around the corner. As for myself.. I and what was left of my composure dove into the nearest taxi.