Tijuana Blues


Why do you think I had to take the trolley home? The transmission dropped out of the Ghostang right at the border.

Immona let you in on little secret, Chilangabachos. When I came back from Tijuana last weekend I straight up started crying like a heavyweight boxing loser on the trolley to San Diego. And no, it wasn’t because I was missing a kidney.

My 48-hour jaunt across the border contained all of my favorite Mexican elements – nudey art, lady cops pointing semi-automatics out of patrol trucks, and free cantina food.

It’s one thing to get on a plane, pass out from the free Tecates and wake up in another country, but its a whole other thing to watch a country shrink into the horizon in front of your very prescription sunglasses you “borrowed” from the lost and found. The  sniffling that started in San Ysidro and turned into a full-on “boo-hoo-hoo” around Barrio Logan had nothing to do with my opinion that Petco Park is the worst name in baseball. I realized I miss living in Mexico like America Ferrera misses her  traveling pants.

But then, faster than you could say “Rancho Cucamonga,” I was back home thinking how awesome it was that  I could  be in both Mexico and California in one day without having to worry about duct taping my checked luggage shut.

Check out the gallery for more reasons I got all misty-eyed.


1 Comment

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One response to “Tijuana Blues

  1. I appreciated the Cucamonga shout-out. 🙂

    I’m sorry you’re homesick. But like you said, at least you can hit Mexico and the U.S. in the same day. Also, there’s a great sausage joint in San Diego, if you want to check it out the next time you’re down there. It’s called The Linkery.

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