Years ago, my husband and I moved to San Diego where he had been stationed by the Navy. We had to stay in a hotel for a bit before we could move into our rental house. I got a sweet surprise when my younger sister, Alotta Fagina, and a friend of her’s, “Ivy”, came to visit for a few days.
The second day they were there, the four of us thought, “Hey, let’s go to Mexico!”
Off to Tijuana we went.
We took the train down to Mexico and hopped in a cab to our first club to get our drink on.
I’m suck a lightweight and was toast after the first few drinks. I think we may have hit another bar… probably… maybe.
We somehow ended up standing outside of a strip club, having our drunk asses deciding whether or not to go in.
Why the hell not?
We were seated at a table right next to the stripper stage and order a round of drinks. Actually my husband ordered and something got lost in translation because instead of 4 beers total, we got 4 beers each.
We had to leave in the next hour to make the last train back to San Diego but kept extending the time at the strip club. I was probably the drunkest I’ve ever been, I think we all were.
That’s why when one of the workers from the club asked us girls if we wanted to give the stripper pole a try, it sounded like a GREAT idea.
Sadly, wanting to be an aspiring stripper in Mexico was short-lived for me. I chickened out but Ivy and my sister went on with it.
Ivy’s turn came and while trying to swing around the pole, she wiped out a row of beers from the customers sitting in the front.
Spilled beer….. Nooooo!
My sister was up next and I sat there battling my older sister instincts to get her the hell off stage vs. being really drunk and having the whole thing making me laugh my ass off.
Neither Ivy nor Alotta took anything off but I’ve gotta tell you, my sister had some pro stripper moves.
Alotta was whipping around the stripper pole and was a natural. Where the hell did she learn this shit??
I can still picture her and every now and then, it randomly pops up in my head and I start laughing like an idiot.
We finally were able to get Alotta off the pole and made our way to the train back to San Diego.
While waiting, my sister and I had to pee so bad but there was nowhere to go. Since we’re such classy ladies, we found a spot by the trash cans behind a Carl’s Jr.
It would have been easy enough to pee but the world was spinning for the two of us and the four of us were in hysterics. We just couldn’t stand up straight long enough to go.
That’s when the manager of the fast food place came walking out and we ran our asses away from there, laughing all the way.
Since then, I’ve had many years of never letting my sister forget that one time in Mexico.