Saturday, July 26, 2008
You Never Know
The wonderful mystery of old Colonial cities like San Miguel is that every property is walled and gated. In many instances you can't really tell whether you're walking past a 6 million dollar mansion or tin-roofed shack, housing pigs and chickens. (Zoning, right? What a quaint American concept.) Anyway, case in point: We've walked by this nondescript brick wall with a nondescript metal gate several times a week for nearly two years. Another ruin, we figured. Then last weekend, around midnight, high as fucking kites, we came around the corner and were assaulted by loud Ranchero music and raucous laughter. As we passed the (now open) metal gates, we saw a 5-piece brass band on a stage and an area about the size of half a football field filled with 8-top round tables filled with nicely dressed guests and an army of waiters passing hors d'oeuvres butler style. What the...? Unbeknownst to us, this is the apparently the neighborhood Party Place. We stumbled (literally) into a Mexican wedding or Quinceañera (15th birthday) celebration. The San Miguel mysteries never cease...
# posted by goots @ 11:17 AM 
