Mexican Furniture

Monday, June 30, 2014

Today I am grateful for Mexican furniture.  If you follow my daily posts, you will remember that yesterday I shared a trip I made to Matamoros, Mexico with a large truck and our friend, David, who is my best, craziest kinda girlfriend. . .except he’s a guy.  We have more laughs together than Lucy & Ethel working in the chocolate factory.

Sitting in Las 2 Republicas (The most unique cocktail lounge in northern Mexico – Home of the famous margaritas) with my friend and partner-in-almost-crime, with both of our spouses full knowledge, was probably the most fun I’ve had in my life.  At least it’s right up there.   We swilled margaritas while browsing around the enormous, dusty, beautiful shop.  There was air conditioning, but only when you happened to walk past it.  Dusty heat and humidity poured in the front door.  Every brush of the wind-chimes, which brought the minion with the margaritas, reminded us we were being over-served.  It didn’t stop us from being Pavlov’s dogs.

Every time another rim of salt showed up, one of us bought something.  Tinkle/minion/margarita.  Eduardo knew what he was doing by passing out the “free” booze.  David bought a large wooden sculpture of Don Quiote.  Doesn’t everybody need one? Tinkle/minion/margarita.  I bought a large, clay sculpture of a senorita (I named her Margarita).  Tinkle/minion/margarita. And so on. Until each of us purchased gorgeous, heavy, wooden Mexican furniture.  His has sunflower designs, mine is a big sun face.  Tinkle/minion/margarita.   “I really should take that little chest with the same design, too, don’t you think?”  Tinkle/minion/margarita.  “Yes and that bigger one, too,” David laughed.  Tinkle/minion/margarita.  “How about this screen,” Eduardo asked?  Tinkle/minion/margarita.  “Dahveed, you must have the shelf unit that goes with your set,” Eduardo said.  Tinkle/minion/margarita.  “We have a truck!  Throw it on the pile!”  We all laughed.  Especially Eduardo!  Ha. Ha. Ha. Pissing away money sounds the same in any language.

Today I am grateful for the Mexican furniture.  The heavy wooden pieces are more works of art than comfortable.  Even the cushions I made for the seats doesn’t help much.  I love it anyway.  It’s attached to a perfect memory.