Pachangas

Well as we gear up for next weeks big pachanga for la raza anniversary celebration, it brings back memories of the past anniversary pachangas. Now last year, the radio station made a big mistake in celebrating their anniversary with a pachanga in San Jose. Cause I'll tell ya right now, they don't party like the boys in the city! You've heard the saying, "How you gonna keep them down on the farm after they've seen Pari?" Well the same applies here. The boys in San Jose, as of yet, haven't made it to Pari. Or as we say here in the city, "How you gonna keep them down on the ranch after they've seen San Francisco!
Well, we all know that History didn’t really happen the way that it’s written in the books. Having said that, the following historical event should be taken with a grain of salt. To put it bluntly, “Don’t nobody remember nothing,” about the last pachanga here in the city.
It all started, innocently enough, when we pulled into the parking lot of the Cow Palace to go to the 2nd anniversary celebration of a local Mexican radio station, just to enjoy the company of other Mexicans and, of course, our music. Well, immediately, we began that enjoyment. We pulled out our bottles of champagne and cans of beer, while the car next to us drank tequila from the bottle. “Cheers, salud!”
Well, they were pulling in by the truck loads, our brethren Mexicans, that is. And, oh my god, looking good, REAL good. We downed, I mean sipped, our champagne and prepared to enter heaven. Before we got out of the car, our neighbors offered us shots of tequila. So we had a few shots, just to be neighborly. “OK, let’s go.” I grabbed my hat from the trunk and we made the walk to the entrance. And what a nice walk it was.
Now, the Cow Palace is a huge building, which was originally used for rodeos. It still is, but it’s also great for Mexican get togethers. It’s got a huge dance floor/arena and seats encircling it if you choose to watch the pretty scene from afar. Well, that’s not what we do. We don’t hide in corners waiting to be rescued. We go out there and participate.
And participate we did, immediately.
My sister and I got asked to dance as soon as we entered. And Joey and Chaparra were dancing too, I guess. Well, from here on out, things get a little hazy. Well, let’s just say it like it was, we were all so drunk out of our minds, that the best we can do is patch a few memories together, however accurate or inaccurate, to come up with a version of the truth!
So, somehow or other, we all got separated soon after entering. Nobody’s sure how, but, Chaparra found me in the bar (I think I was translating for the bartenders and their clients, you know tequila, corona,etc.) when she dumped Joey. Nobody found my sister, but my sister found Joey. As I said, things are a little fuzzy.
Chaparra and I had a great time. I think we left the bar to go to the bathrooms, good idea! Then we came back down and had hot dogs, good idea! Then we went back up to the bathrooms, good idea! Somehow or other we had time to re-enter the dance arena where, low and behold, we spotted Joey, dancing with another woman! “Come on!” said Chaparra. I followed her over to him thinking, “Oh my god! He is dancing with someone else. And a slow dance too!” Chaparra marched right up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Joey turned and looked at her. “Oops, sorry, wrong person,” said Chaparra. It wasn’t Joey, but it sure looked like him. “Well, what do you expect in a dark room full of Mexicans,” said my sister, “someone’s bound to look like him.”
Chaparra and I quickly ran away (run Forrest, run).
In the meantime, the real Joey was walking around with my sister looking for us. That must have been when Chaparra and I decided to go up to the stage, good idea! We finally made our way in the dark, up towards the stage. When we got there we thought, “ So what do we do now?” Make our way back, of course.
My sister finally realized she was lost when she lost Joey too. Having had the wisdom and foresight (after 2 bottles of champagne and who knows how many shots of tequila) to leave her cell phone in the trunk of the car, and Chaparra wasn’t answering when Joey called and if he’d called me, I wouldn’t have felt my phone vibrate anyway, my sister proceeded to do the only logical thing she could do. Knowing she was a little tipsy, she decided, “I’m gonna leave before I fall down.” Which actually was a good idea, since it was too dark for anyone to see her on the floor.
So, she went up to someone whom she knew spoke English, a cop. She gave him her story about being lost with no cell phone. He sympathetically offered the use of his, but she realized she didn’t know anyone’s phone number! But, to her credit, she remembered she knew her daughter’s number and called her to call me with the text message, “My mom’s taking a cab.” So ends my sister’s night.
As the story goes, Chaparra and I were getting ready to leave when I got a phone call and Chaparra spotted Joey, still wearing my hat that he had “rented” from me. Chaparra quickly ran over to him snatched the hat off his head and her keys and she started to head towards the exit asking, “Who’s on the phone?” Which only goes to show, no matter how angry and/or boracha one might be, you always want to know who’s calling your friend late at night.
Needless to say, Joey followed us out. But, Chaparra had it all planned out, “Take a left here and a right up there. We’re dropping Joey off first.” “OK, then," I said. So we zipped up to Joey’s house, driving off as he closed the car door. Then zipped around the corner dropping off Chaparra. And back around down Joey’s street (the only way out). Low and behold, Joey saw me zip by and knew Chaparra was lying when she talked to him later saying we were out eating. I guess she was still mad at him for looking like the guy that was dancing with that woman.
Anyway, it was a wonderful night in Mexican heaven, tequila shots, hats, boots and music. And that’s the End. That is, until next weekend!