"You HAVE to go to cOcO bOngO," my friend, Lauren, said. I could practically hear the creative capitalization of nouns.
"What," I asked; the pray tell part of the sentence left unsaid because I was 30 at the time and Lauren is a pretty little 26 year old and therefore would dismiss me for using the phrase 'pray tell'; "is cOcO bOngO?"
"You know," she said, "like from The Mask. Only it's much crazier now."
Coco Bongo (I simply cannot keep typing it as cOcO bOngO or I am going to go cOcO f-Ing bAnAnAs) is a club very near to where our resort was in Cancun. The Gentleman and I had divvied up our vacation time as such: three nights for quiet dinners and relaxing after-hours listening to live music and sipping wine so that we could get up early in the morning, one night relegated to the resort's on-site club (which turned out to be...not what we expected) and one night "out on the town." Like - THE REAL SPRING BREAK, YA'LL.
Here's how the whole Coco Bongo thing works - our second or third day on the resort, we stopped by one of those desks in the lobby with tons of flyers for ANCIENT RUINS TOURS or SNORKEL WITH DINOSAURS (a slightly stretched truth, I imagine) and tried to sign up for some excursions. There were some really awesome ones - snorkeling through ancient ruins and caves, zip lining through jungle trees, day-long boat rides that went from reef to reef for diving. Unfortunately, we waited too long to sign up for things, and most everything was booked.
NOTE: go to those touristy-desk things THE FIRST DAY YOU GET THERE. Shizz fills up fast. I managed to sneak in a dolphin cuddle, but there was only ONE spot left, and The Gentleman was forced to stand off to the side and drink free beers and take pictures of me getting up close and personal with a dolphin because the entire "dolphin experience" was sold out, and I only got in due to a cancellation. More on that later.
But we were able to buy two tickets to get into Coco Bongo, and they were worth every penny. $75 a person gets you tickets to not have to stand in line (which you probably will anyway, but at least not with the "general admission" putzes who pop their collars or have sun burned tits), and open bar. Apparently, in recent years, all of the clubs in the area moved to the "huge cover charge, but open bar" theme. I can't imagine why (a million credit cards left behind at the end of the night and/or a million unpaid tabs walked out on). At first, I was kinda pissed - like how enraged I used to get when Seacrets would charge ungodly sums for cover charges in Ocean City in college (most likely to keep out the rifraff like myself- a college kid with no problem coughing up $11 per drink but balked at a $10 cover charge), but then we got to Coco Bongo. And, lemme tell you, this club put anything I have ever seen to shame. Including Vegas.
We donned our wrist bans, and headed out for our big night on the town in Cancun during Spring Break.
Holy shit.
I'm not even going to give any commentary. I think the photos stand alone on this one.
"What," I asked; the pray tell part of the sentence left unsaid because I was 30 at the time and Lauren is a pretty little 26 year old and therefore would dismiss me for using the phrase 'pray tell'; "is cOcO bOngO?"
"You know," she said, "like from The Mask. Only it's much crazier now."
Coco Bongo (I simply cannot keep typing it as cOcO bOngO or I am going to go cOcO f-Ing bAnAnAs) is a club very near to where our resort was in Cancun. The Gentleman and I had divvied up our vacation time as such: three nights for quiet dinners and relaxing after-hours listening to live music and sipping wine so that we could get up early in the morning, one night relegated to the resort's on-site club (which turned out to be...not what we expected) and one night "out on the town." Like - THE REAL SPRING BREAK, YA'LL.
Here's how the whole Coco Bongo thing works - our second or third day on the resort, we stopped by one of those desks in the lobby with tons of flyers for ANCIENT RUINS TOURS or SNORKEL WITH DINOSAURS (a slightly stretched truth, I imagine) and tried to sign up for some excursions. There were some really awesome ones - snorkeling through ancient ruins and caves, zip lining through jungle trees, day-long boat rides that went from reef to reef for diving. Unfortunately, we waited too long to sign up for things, and most everything was booked.
NOTE: go to those touristy-desk things THE FIRST DAY YOU GET THERE. Shizz fills up fast. I managed to sneak in a dolphin cuddle, but there was only ONE spot left, and The Gentleman was forced to stand off to the side and drink free beers and take pictures of me getting up close and personal with a dolphin because the entire "dolphin experience" was sold out, and I only got in due to a cancellation. More on that later.
But we were able to buy two tickets to get into Coco Bongo, and they were worth every penny. $75 a person gets you tickets to not have to stand in line (which you probably will anyway, but at least not with the "general admission" putzes who pop their collars or have sun burned tits), and open bar. Apparently, in recent years, all of the clubs in the area moved to the "huge cover charge, but open bar" theme. I can't imagine why (a million credit cards left behind at the end of the night and/or a million unpaid tabs walked out on). At first, I was kinda pissed - like how enraged I used to get when Seacrets would charge ungodly sums for cover charges in Ocean City in college (most likely to keep out the rifraff like myself- a college kid with no problem coughing up $11 per drink but balked at a $10 cover charge), but then we got to Coco Bongo. And, lemme tell you, this club put anything I have ever seen to shame. Including Vegas.
We donned our wrist bans, and headed out for our big night on the town in Cancun during Spring Break.
Holy shit.
I'm not even going to give any commentary. I think the photos stand alone on this one.
No comments:
Post a Comment