From pretending to be a statue for a full eight-hour shift in Tijuana's Wax Museum to arm wrestling a cockroach for a beer, I've engaged in my fair share of south-of-the-border shenanigans, but in keeping this column San Diego-centric I've kept it under wraps.
Since the recent arrival of neon jeans to Ensenada, a hipster revolution is brewing in the port town, and fresh additions to the Hussong's Cantina-dominated nightlife scene like El Eurobar and the neighboring Ultramarino attest to it.
In the mood for something a tad more lowbrow and with Tania, the hostess at the door, promising a “mind-blowing travesty show” and an “Amsterdam-style darkroom,” my inner compass pointed toward the aptly named Poker Face (Blvd. Costero #263). After I paid the 30-peso cover charge, my adventure began.
Fabulosity is redefined at this seaside watering hole, with its irregular tile flooring; glittery, Styrofoam, star-shaped cutouts hanging alongside 12-inch vinyl records that proudly serve as décor; and enough simultaneously flashing disco lights to warrant posting an epilepsy warning.
Leave your Lips expectations at the door. These particular DIY glamazons have visible polio-shot marks, sensual farmer tans and unhemmed dresses held together by hot glue, a few staples and a prayer.
Inside the men's room, I came face to face with a mid-tuck Paquita la del Barrio impersonator who asked for a helping hand with her girdle.
“I've got lots to work with,” she said, wiping the sweat beads from her brow.
As for the darkroom, it was just that—an unfinished, dirt-floor room in the back with no electrical wiring that doubled as a storage shed. When in Ensenada, do as the Ensenadenses do—that's what I always say. So, wanting to soak it all up, I ventured in.
Six minutes later, I realized I was getting it on with a shovel.
One by one, haphazard versions of Mexi LGBT icons like Marisela and Jenni Rivera took the stage, and, finally, the headliner, Maria Conchita Alonso, sealed the deal with a thrilling rendition of her signature anthem “Acariciame” (Caress Me). Suggestively, she zeroed in on me, and with caked-on flakey chunks of pressed powder cascading from her 5-o'clock shadow, she took my hand and moved it across her hard-as-coconuts silicone breasts, upholstery-foam-carved ass and beyond.
Another bucket-list entry crossed out.
Up next? Purchasing DayGlo pants and cruising Home Depot's gardening section for a second date.