The year was 1981 and I was spending that season playing bass in the Mexico City Philharmonic. This is an excellent Orchestra that is made up of about a third Mexican musicians, a third American, and a third eastern European. My younger sister, Lynn had come to visit for a week. She is fluent in Spanish and had spent a summer in Cali, Colombia. Now she wanted to experience Mexico City. The DF, as Mexico City is called, had a population at the time of at least 20 million and was considered the largest city n the world. I was living in a beautiful colonia called Coyoacan, in the southern part of the city. But I decided to take Lynn to the city center, La Zona Rosa, where we would have lunch at La Fonda de Refugio, a favorite restaurant among my friends and me. It served traditional Mexican cuisine, food from this more southern part of the country. It was nothing like the Tex-Mex stuff you get in the United States. Since the restaurant was in a very crowded part of town, the Metro (or subway) seemed the most expeditious way to get there.
It was 11 AM and rush over was supposedly over. But the Metro was still packed. Lynn and I crammed ourselves into one of the cars and were standing as close to our fellow passengers as jelly beans in a jar, unable to move. Both my sister and I are 5 feet, 8 inches tall and she has yellow, blond hair. Being taller than most of the other passengers, we could see all around us and stood out from the crowd like two geese in a flock of chickens. After a while jostling and bumping, I felt a strange poking in my backside. Not anything sharp, but a blunt instrument. I managed to turn part way and look down. To my horror, I saw an erect penis butting up against me. Completely unable to move away, I yelled something unintelligible in Spanish OR English and started bonking the offender on the shoulder. The people around me couldn't see what had transpired and thought I was the crazy one. They backed away from me as fast as they could. I still vividly remember the startled expressions of the other passengers, not to mention the look of consternation on the man in question.
After what seemed like hours, though it was probably just a minute or two, I grabbed my puzzled sister and promptly got off at the next stop. "What the heck happened?" she wanted to know. I filled her in and after I calmed down a bit, we went and had a delicious comida (lunch) of squash blossom tacos and huite la coche. And I vowed that the next time I rode the Metro at rush hour, I would definitely take one of the cars for women and children.
Ewwww.
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