Monday, April 27, 2009
Home
Thing didn't work out in Mexico so we moved home to Colorado. Penasco is a difficult place to live. We made some good friends, ate some amazing food, and had a great learning experience. In a few weeks I'm going to pull this blog. The name "Colorado Misadventures" doesn't have the same aliterative ring. My wife and I aren't sure where our next adventure will be, but we'll keep you posted.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Hey, mister! Change? You got change?
I know we're leaving soon, but this is a topic I've been meaning to address for a while now.
Last night I about lost it. My lovely wife and I went to Xochitl's in Cholla Bay for some of the best pizza I have ever had. Literally. We make sure to eat there at least once a month. If you ever come to Peñasco, you HAVE to eat there. Anyway, the bill came to just over 200 pesos. My wife gave the server 300. For one, he had the audacity to ask if we wanted change. Um, you pay for food and tip for service. The food is worth every peso. But, I'm sorry to say, the service doesn't justify a 50% tip.
Then, when the server came back he asked if we had anything smaller than a 100 peso bill. Seriously? You run a restaurant! This is a Friday night! You can't break a 100? That's 7 bucks! My wife searched her bag for some spare pesos and came up with 20 in smaller coins. While she was digging in her purse I asked the server why Mexicans have difficulty making change. He gave us some BS about doing business in dollars because it's a tourist town. That still doesn't explain much because they have the same problem with dollars.
Xochitl's isn't the only place that does this. We have similar issues at the grocery store. If you try to pay with a 500 for groceries that total between 300 and 400, the checker asks if you have something smaller. Smaller? Like what? That all-elusive 368 peso bill? Yes, I do have smaller bills. In fact, I could pay the exact amount. However, I want to keep those because when I go out later, my taco bill will be smaller (say, 80 pesos) and nobody else will have change either. You're the biggest grocery store in the city. Learn how to make change!
For this last month, just to be a jerk, I am going to use bills in the largest denomination possible.
By the way, I'll give you a thousand bonus points if you can name the movie from which I got this post's title.
Last night I about lost it. My lovely wife and I went to Xochitl's in Cholla Bay for some of the best pizza I have ever had. Literally. We make sure to eat there at least once a month. If you ever come to Peñasco, you HAVE to eat there. Anyway, the bill came to just over 200 pesos. My wife gave the server 300. For one, he had the audacity to ask if we wanted change. Um, you pay for food and tip for service. The food is worth every peso. But, I'm sorry to say, the service doesn't justify a 50% tip.
Then, when the server came back he asked if we had anything smaller than a 100 peso bill. Seriously? You run a restaurant! This is a Friday night! You can't break a 100? That's 7 bucks! My wife searched her bag for some spare pesos and came up with 20 in smaller coins. While she was digging in her purse I asked the server why Mexicans have difficulty making change. He gave us some BS about doing business in dollars because it's a tourist town. That still doesn't explain much because they have the same problem with dollars.
Xochitl's isn't the only place that does this. We have similar issues at the grocery store. If you try to pay with a 500 for groceries that total between 300 and 400, the checker asks if you have something smaller. Smaller? Like what? That all-elusive 368 peso bill? Yes, I do have smaller bills. In fact, I could pay the exact amount. However, I want to keep those because when I go out later, my taco bill will be smaller (say, 80 pesos) and nobody else will have change either. You're the biggest grocery store in the city. Learn how to make change!
For this last month, just to be a jerk, I am going to use bills in the largest denomination possible.
By the way, I'll give you a thousand bonus points if you can name the movie from which I got this post's title.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Moving Home
After much consideration, my lovely wife and I are moving back to Colorado next month. We have enjoyed our time south of the border, even if it is only 60 miles. Hey, south is south. Things just didn't work out. For those few faithful blog followers, look us up when you're in the neighborhood. We'll grab some falafel, croissants, chocolates, or whatever. Anything but Vitamin T. At least for a while.
I'll probably have a few more posts before we roll out, but I'm not making any promises.
I'll probably have a few more posts before we roll out, but I'm not making any promises.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Noise Ordinances - Or Lack Thereof
I’m up. It’s 2:00 AM and I’m pondering the finer points of Penasco’s noise ordinances. Why? Because my neighbors are having a party, they’re blasting their music, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I like Shakira. I really do. She’s a wonderfully talented artist - and easy on the eyes. I simply prefer to enjoy her music at 2:00 PM instead of at this ungodly hour.
For now I ask rhetorically, “How do I get a little peace and quiet?” Because based on my experience living here, if the city has a noise ordinance, nobody enforces it – especially on the weekends. I consider walking over and making a polite request to turn down the volume but I’m afraid I’ll just get invited to stay.
I understand these people work hard during the week and like to cut loose whenever they can. Great. Bueno. Whatever. I’m with you. In the immortal word of The Beastie Boys, “You gotta fight for your right to party.” But how about a little consideration for those of us that have to work tomorrow?
And I know these people aren’t being malicious about the noise. They really aren’t. This is a cultural difference to which I have to adapt. I’m a guest in this country. God knows we don’t need to fuel the ugly American fire. For now I’m trying to embrace my inner Mexican and learn to sleep with Banda in the background.
For now I ask rhetorically, “How do I get a little peace and quiet?” Because based on my experience living here, if the city has a noise ordinance, nobody enforces it – especially on the weekends. I consider walking over and making a polite request to turn down the volume but I’m afraid I’ll just get invited to stay.
I understand these people work hard during the week and like to cut loose whenever they can. Great. Bueno. Whatever. I’m with you. In the immortal word of The Beastie Boys, “You gotta fight for your right to party.” But how about a little consideration for those of us that have to work tomorrow?
And I know these people aren’t being malicious about the noise. They really aren’t. This is a cultural difference to which I have to adapt. I’m a guest in this country. God knows we don’t need to fuel the ugly American fire. For now I’m trying to embrace my inner Mexican and learn to sleep with Banda in the background.
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