Celebrating Death {Mufasa}
Dec 11, 2018 10:33:12 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2018 10:33:12 GMT -5
Today was a special day for Héctor. Several years ago on this day, marked the day that Héctor died on the streets of Mexico City. The skeletal musician realized this because it was shortly after the week after he turned 21, when the young father was still in the tours around the biggest cities in Mexico.
Death in the culture of Mexico, although met with sadness, was meant to be celebrated as a new journey. It was the new path to enter to the land of the dead. He came to this place in order to see Pandora again after discovering it with Jake, just to feel that mild sense of home, if only to mark the first time he made the path of the land of the dead when he died. He then found this Dawa Bar while he was walking by the Harambe fruit stand. With a shrug, he decided to get started on celebrating before he would head over to La Cava del Tequila in the Mexico pavilion.
The skeletal musician sat at the booth underneath the shade of the straw and wood roof of the open bar, which allowed him to see the passerbys of the parks. He liked the welcoming aspect of this bar, where anyone can just walk in and join you at the bar. It was nice. He told Imelda that he'd be celebrating his death day in the Pandora place, and mildly wondered if she would know that he'd be in a bar celebrating afterwards. Either way, he planned on being at La Cava del Tequila if she wanted to join him for celebrating after she was finished with her delivery of shoes.
Héctor took a moment to stare at the liquors that were atop of the wooden table, which reminded him of the bottles they had atop of the table in their hotel room during the tour at Mexico City all those years ago. He realized, at this moment in time more than a century ago, Héctor would have been shifting around his food on his plate, mostly eating the chorizos with a scornful expression on his face. He was not only homesick, but he was annoyed at Ernesto after that last performance, feeling more like a trained monkey in front of strangers more than a musician that played from the heart for families. While Ernesto would talk excitedly about their big moment in Mexico City, Héctor remembered that he was struggling to care.. just mildly hoping it would be better than the last.. except he never ended up going through with it in the end.
That was the worst last meal, Héctor concluded in his thoughts, but then tried to brighten up again with the thought that now at least could celebrate with having all kinds of great food now! "Hey what do you got for drinks in this place?!" He asked the bartender enthusiastically, who greeted him knowingly and showed him the menu. "You got margaritas?!" That caught his eye in a second. That meant that they had tequila alone! "Oye.. how about a shot of tequila?" He asked with a grin, before it faltered only slightly upon hearing the bartender say it wasn't on the menu. "Okay, okay..what if I pay for one of these drinks and then I pay you for the shot?" The former Mexican con-artist proposed with his skeletal finger tips together. "C'mon, amigo! I'm celebrating my death!" He pleaded with the man, much like he would do to many when he needed to borrow something. In this case, it was his death day!
Thankfully, the bartender relented and gave into that proposition, given that at least he was paying for both drinks. "Yes!" He cheered happily and peered at the menu again with more interest. "Okay, let me see what they got..a ver.. a ver..(let's see, let's see)" He looked at the beers first. "Angry Orchard Crisp Apple Hard Cider..HAH! I got to tell Imelda this one!" He couldn't help but laugh out loud in amusement. In an instant, he thought about his wife when they went out to that restaurant. He knew he wasn't the only loco for thinking of angry pasta! Now they have Angry Apple Cider! "Wait..Old Elephant..what?? No! Guácala..No!" Héctor couldn't hide his disgust for that name being for a drink. Of all things! Why did it have to be called Old Elephant?! Disgusting! "Ey..You got to come up with better names for these drinks, amigo.." Héctor was blatantly honest with the bartender, lowering his eyelids with a disappointed frown. This was like hearing a bad grito or seeing Ernesto try to write his own stuff. He could probably come up with better names for these drinks after a few shots.
Death in the culture of Mexico, although met with sadness, was meant to be celebrated as a new journey. It was the new path to enter to the land of the dead. He came to this place in order to see Pandora again after discovering it with Jake, just to feel that mild sense of home, if only to mark the first time he made the path of the land of the dead when he died. He then found this Dawa Bar while he was walking by the Harambe fruit stand. With a shrug, he decided to get started on celebrating before he would head over to La Cava del Tequila in the Mexico pavilion.
The skeletal musician sat at the booth underneath the shade of the straw and wood roof of the open bar, which allowed him to see the passerbys of the parks. He liked the welcoming aspect of this bar, where anyone can just walk in and join you at the bar. It was nice. He told Imelda that he'd be celebrating his death day in the Pandora place, and mildly wondered if she would know that he'd be in a bar celebrating afterwards. Either way, he planned on being at La Cava del Tequila if she wanted to join him for celebrating after she was finished with her delivery of shoes.
Héctor took a moment to stare at the liquors that were atop of the wooden table, which reminded him of the bottles they had atop of the table in their hotel room during the tour at Mexico City all those years ago. He realized, at this moment in time more than a century ago, Héctor would have been shifting around his food on his plate, mostly eating the chorizos with a scornful expression on his face. He was not only homesick, but he was annoyed at Ernesto after that last performance, feeling more like a trained monkey in front of strangers more than a musician that played from the heart for families. While Ernesto would talk excitedly about their big moment in Mexico City, Héctor remembered that he was struggling to care.. just mildly hoping it would be better than the last.. except he never ended up going through with it in the end.
That was the worst last meal, Héctor concluded in his thoughts, but then tried to brighten up again with the thought that now at least could celebrate with having all kinds of great food now! "Hey what do you got for drinks in this place?!" He asked the bartender enthusiastically, who greeted him knowingly and showed him the menu. "You got margaritas?!" That caught his eye in a second. That meant that they had tequila alone! "Oye.. how about a shot of tequila?" He asked with a grin, before it faltered only slightly upon hearing the bartender say it wasn't on the menu. "Okay, okay..what if I pay for one of these drinks and then I pay you for the shot?" The former Mexican con-artist proposed with his skeletal finger tips together. "C'mon, amigo! I'm celebrating my death!" He pleaded with the man, much like he would do to many when he needed to borrow something. In this case, it was his death day!
Thankfully, the bartender relented and gave into that proposition, given that at least he was paying for both drinks. "Yes!" He cheered happily and peered at the menu again with more interest. "Okay, let me see what they got..a ver.. a ver..(let's see, let's see)" He looked at the beers first. "Angry Orchard Crisp Apple Hard Cider..HAH! I got to tell Imelda this one!" He couldn't help but laugh out loud in amusement. In an instant, he thought about his wife when they went out to that restaurant. He knew he wasn't the only loco for thinking of angry pasta! Now they have Angry Apple Cider! "Wait..Old Elephant..what?? No! Guácala..No!" Héctor couldn't hide his disgust for that name being for a drink. Of all things! Why did it have to be called Old Elephant?! Disgusting! "Ey..You got to come up with better names for these drinks, amigo.." Héctor was blatantly honest with the bartender, lowering his eyelids with a disappointed frown. This was like hearing a bad grito or seeing Ernesto try to write his own stuff. He could probably come up with better names for these drinks after a few shots.