Ok, excuse the French/Yogi Berra pun but it’s the tequila talking. I have drunk here before, even though I physically haven’t.
I am in a restaurant/entertainment venue called Carlos n’ Charlie’s in Cancun, Mexico. If you have been to one of Mexico’s tourist enclaves, or Los Angeles, or New York, or any larger US city in the 70s and 80s, you have probably been here too, in spirit(s). Years ago there were lots of like establishments around. Thrift shop junk like old telephones, saxophones and posters adorning the walls, a stratum of peanut shells covering the floor like the skulls of dinosaur-chomped voles, and teeshirts for sale celebrated super or perhaps sub-human feats, usually associated with the consumption of alcohol. And while most of these places have faded in the US, they still live in party lovin’ Cancun.