You Just Can’t Tell About Some People

Melissa and I spent a few days at an all-inclusive resort called Riu Palace in Cabo San Lucas. I had never been to an all-inclusive resort before, so I was a wee-bit skeptical. I mean, they tell you EVERYTHING is included and you start to wonder. My first question was, “Do they mean food, drinks, shows, everything? Or, do they mean everything as in the bed and the bathroom and the sheets and the pillows, everything?”

However, this post isn’t about the legitimacy of the “Everything’s included” promise, but suffice it to say, “Yes!” everything was included.

I want to tell you about the most unexpected and probably the most incredible thing I witnessed on the entire trip.

Allow me to set the scene:

Melissa and I had taken the 20-minute cab ride into Cabo San Lucas to have dinner and look around. Melissa had done some research and found a couple of restaurants we decide to look for, but after asking our driver about them he suggested a place called Pancho’s.

Now in Texas, Pancho’s is a chain restaurant known for its inexpensive, semi-edible Mexican, or rather Tex-Mex food. It’s a buffet style with a Mexican flag on each table that you raise when you need your waiter to bring you more food, or more drinks, or more anything. In college, because of the prices, my roommates and I went several times a week. These days, however, it’s not a place I frequent.

That being said, we were both a bit reluctant to take our new friend’s dining advice. He said he could drop us off at Pancho’s and there were different restaurants all around and we could choose after he let us off. So we agreed on Pancho’s.

I couldn’t imagine Pancho’s Mexican Buffet from Texas had a location in Cabo, but we had already driven past a Home Depot, a Bridgestone Tire, a Blockbuster video, and of course a Starbuck's so I had still had my doubts.

As we pulled up in front, it was easy to tell that this Pancho’s had nothing more than spelling in common with his Pancho’s neighbor to the north. Needless to say we were very happy.

The food was wonderful, but that’s also not the incredible thing that happened.

We had been there probably fifteen to twenty minutes, when this very large and very loud group of Americans came in and were seated at three tables pulled together right next to us. There were at least five couples, plus about eight kids between the ages of five and twelve. Turns out it was the birthday of one of the ladies. A very loud, very blond, very busty lady.

Our first thought was, “Is it too late to move?”

We had drinks and our food was on its way, so we just decided to sit back and enjoy the show.

We were sitting there being both amused and repulsed by our new neighbors. I’m mean we’re sitting in this place full of people, where about half to three-fourths appear to be local residents and I was suddenly very embarrassed to be an American. We were trying to pick up any hints about where these people might be from and praying it wasn’t Texas.

Right about then a small girl, maybe eight years old, with a plastic tray full of about 20 little bobble head toys walked up to our window, held up the tray, kind of half shrugged and in a very timid voice said, “Three for Five?” Melissa was mesmerized with the goings on of our American friends and wasn’t looking, so I gestured for her to wait while I turned to get Melissa’s attention.

I guess the little girl thought I was telling her to leave, because when I turned back she had moved do to the window by the loud table.

At this point there was a shift in the Force, and I rediscovered that you just can’t tell about some people.

One of the men in the loud group, who was sitting next to the window, saw the girl, stood up and started yelling for his group to, “Shut the F**K UP!” He took the girl’s tray, quickly counted the toys and yelled, “Let’s just give her 40 bucks for the whole tray!” He glanced over at us and Melissa didn’t hesitate to let him know that we wanted in. He handed Melissa the tray and I dug out eight dollars.

Melissa picked the three she wanted, then he dumped the tray on their table an handed it back to the girl with the cash.

With a tear in my eye, I walked over to shake this guys hand. Turns out they’re from Orange County California. I was little embarrassed to tell the guy that saying, “I’m from Orange County”, didn’t tell me a thing about where they were from, so I just gave an approving head bob.

The rest of the evening was very enjoyable. Suddenly, our new Orange County friends didn’t seem all that loud anymore. Well, except for the busty birthday girl, but then she spent most of the night at the bar. A fact that made both us and most of her group very happy.

Like I said, you just can’t tell about some people.

But sometimes that’s okay.