mexico diaries 2: On The Scene

05/16/98

We surprised ourselves by going out the last two nights—Rogelio called on Thursday to invite us to an art opening at the Centro de la Imagen, a beautiful (city-run?) gallery in an old colonial school or barracks. His friend, Diego Toledo, had an opening of some billboards (yes, he had the actual billboards in there. The synthetic cloth kind they tie up onto the backing board) that looked vaguely like soft drink or “extreme sports” ads, but then had strange, threatening slogans, like “we’ve got you surrounded” and “we only take orders”. Good stuff. In fact, Matt and I had seen one of them in situ, and were very puzzled by it, in a good way, as it turns out. Then it turns out that some curator was having a party in the bar at the top of the Torre Latinoamericana—48 stories up. It’s the highest building in the city, and we had intended to go have a drink there some time, but hadn’t gone yet. Needless to say, it was koo-well. The pollution was all lit up and smoky looking over the buildings, and you could see as far as—well as far as the smog allows. Pretty far. We met a pop star and a mountain climber, among other people, and, of course, the entertainment was a not-at-all-convincing transvestite (I have a feeling she was a fair-weather tv) singing karaoke-style. Last night we celebrated Matt’s 30th birthday (a week late) with a fancy dinner at a French restaurant, on his parents. I had a great tournedout(sp?) with bernaise sauce, but then felt kind of ill later. I don’t think it was the steak’s fault, but who knows. We then went to a rave-type party in Coyoacan, which I didn’t enjoy much on account of being a bit sick. However, we met again our new DJ friend Manrico, who is a real sweetheart, and he got us a ride home with his girlfriend, Sara, but not before we went to the payphone on the corner (one nod to safety—we never take cabs off the street at night. Always phone.) to call a cab and got asked if we knew where a “casa de mujeres” was by a drunk guy. We assume that a house of women is, well, you know, a House of Women, and I was standing with a jewelry-wearing guy on the phone while wearing a short skirt… Always more adventure.