As soon as we walked into the disco, Mina met a Mexican boy-man named Angel. I got stuck hanging out with one of our language school classmates, Jimmy.
I was spending the summer studying Spanish in Cuernavaca and had taken a weekend jaunt to Acapulco with my new friends, staying at a cheap hotel with a rattling window air conditioner unit and a balcony with a view of a wall. We had gone out to a nightclub, where the expensive cover charge included free drinks for the ladies. Even though we were in our 30s, it felt something like summer camp with margaritas.