This is a picture I took in my first night in Mexico. Because I was laying down on a bench. Because I was drunk. And this palm tree was all I could see from my perspective at the time.
Prior to my trip to Mexico, I had declared to myself that I wanted to kill 50 cervesas down in Mexico. I wanted to drink Dos Equises, Coronas, Sols, Modelos, and whatever other Mexican beers were considered local, as opposed to the Bud/Miller/Coors swill readily available in the States. I had this ambition that I would mark all my beers as I conquered them one by one, and would have a nice album of photographs documenting my douchey conquest.
Well, that didn’t happen. I probably had like 6-7 beers throughout the entire trip, and aside from the cans of Dos Equis, I actually have no clue to what kind it was based on the fact that they came out of a tap at one of the random bars, with no discernible handles on it. Not to mention just about every drink served was presented in reusable plastic or glass cups, and I was pretty sure there would be a hearty objection if I were tagging the resorts’ kitchenware with numbers.