don fucking julio

I was invited to an event featuring Don Julio Tequila. I had never heard of Don Julio. Or his tequila. But I figured, with a Mexican name, how could he screw it up. Besides, it was free. Enough said.

The event was held at Smith and Wolensky. Most everyone was dressed in work attire and acting quite conservative for a Thursday night. That is until an entourage of what appeared to be Mexican go-go dancers showed up, swarming around what appeared to be the Mexican Mafia (is there such a thing?). They were dressed in white suits, humongous belt buckles, a shiny shirt, a bolo and cowboy hats. I wouldn't be surprised if they had a big gun sticking out of their pants. At first I was like, "Fuck yeah, it's Don Fucking Julio in the flesh!". But it wound up only being his grandson and some other guy.

So the go-go dancers disperse and start making margaritas and then passing them out to everyone. And I might say, these were the best damn margaritas I have ever had. Okay, the twelve best margaritas I have ever had, consecutively, in an hour and a half. Everything was going swimmingly. Until I noticed the gift bags.

Up against a wall was a table that was surrounded by full-sized shopping bags that said Don Julio on them. As I was saying goodbye to one of my friends, I asked him what his parting gift was. Basically, promotional crap, but at the bottom were three mini bottles - one each of the Don Julio flavors.

So I started to look around. There were only about twenty people left and there were at least FIFTY bags left, and not everybody was taking one with them. I disclosed this information to M and we came up with a plan.

While M stood watch, I started filling one of the gift bags with the mini bottles from the other bags, until my bag was over half full. And heavy. Then we quickly exited the party, and headed for the door. M was running ahead of me to get a taxi, and I was close behind with my bag of Don Julio. As I went through the revolving doors, I was jerked to a halt.

My bag had gotten stuck in the door. I yanked it and the fucker broke, and all the bottles crashed to the ground, liquid and glass everywhere. M is yelling for me to hurry up, I yell back that my bag broke and he tells me to get the hell out of there.

I felt like I had won the lottery but lost my ticket.