Swine Flu is the other white death, or How Wesley Narrowly Escaped Mexican Jail

Mexico is getting knocked around like a pinata with all of these Swine Flu stories, huh?

I received mails from HR this week first announcing that any business travel to Mexico is prohibited and then advising any employees coming back from Mexico to stay home for three days before returning to work. Dang!
Considering the relatively low death toll, I feel like this Swine Flu is about as contrived a media circus as is Obama's "First Hundred Days."
People, at least entertain my tastes and call it Bacon Flu.
I'm reminded of my last encounter with pigs and Mexico...

Once upon a time, Wesley, Scott and I were in Cabo San Lucas and decided to go on a booze cruise (This picture was actually taken on said cruise). We were younger, stupider and much more entertaining back then. Little did we know the trouble we would get into just an hour later.
We drank ourselves silly and came off the boat needing to find a restroom -- immediately. We didn't see any close toilets but found what we thought was a sheltered back alley in the harbor to relieve ourselves. This was a muy bad mistake.
Wesley was the first up to bat, and no more quickly did he unleash his pequeno-Wesley and assume the tripod position did the police approach and accuse him of public urination, which was technically a crime in progress.
The timing was too perfect, too immediate. We were set up. This was a stake out.
Those pigs knew that tourists like us, too classy to piss overboard but too desperate to wait for a real restroom, would break the seal -- and the law.
We begged and pleaded with the police not to make pico de gallo out of Wesley at the cruel Mexican jail, as depicted in several Antonio Banderas movies. Wesley was practically fluent in Spanish and Scott and I tried our best, but our speech was slurred. The police probably understood our pleas and excuses but played dumb. They threatened to take Wesley away, and he was already feeling badly for having to stop himself mid-stream and without a good shake.
Fortunately, we were joined by some Marines on the cruise and one of them happened to speak excellent Spanish, which the police could not ignore. He was easily as drunk as we were but could hold his liquor. After all, these were American-born, trained Marines. One of them had chugged a half-fifth of Jose Cuervo with the boat captain (who then proceeded to guide us back to shore) and only threw up overboard twice.
Our Marine friend proceeded to convince the police that Wesley was trying to take picture, or a lie to that ridiculous effect, and the police were probably so entertained by our stress by that time that they let us off the hook.
To celebrate, we proceeded out to the bars to continue the booze cruise festivities where bathrooms were dirty and convenient.
Hopefully we can keep in mind this corrupt, tourist-slumming, binge-encouraging Mexico that we all know and love -- and not let that image be tainted by the overhyped, unfortunate Swine Flu.