Doing the Cabo WaboFifteen or so years ago, when I was still married, the ex and I took a weeklong trip to Cabo San Lucas. Coming from the deserts of Southern California, we were ill-equipped to handle the brutal humidity we found there. But the subsequent sweatfest was only the beginning of the fun.
A couple of nights into the trip, we made the obligatory trip to Sammy Hagar’s bar, Cabo Wabo, where mucho drinking ensued, natch. The bar was way crowded and at some point another couple ended up at our table. They seemed decent enough, so we had drinks with them. Then at some point before closing time, they disappeared. When the tab appeared, guess who hadn’t paid? The ex and I were young, drunk, and in love, and decided, fuck this: We threw our share on the table and beat it out the door.
This might seem hard to believe, but in Cabo there’s not much to do at night except drink. So, a couple of nights after the discrepancy with the tab, we found ourselves headed back at Cabo Wabo. You would think that in a town filled with gringo tourists, one would pretty much look like another. No way. Cabo Wabo’s managers and bouncers were on us before we could even sit down.
“You skipped out on your bill,” they said.
“Wtf?” we said.
Our explanation of being stiffed by the other couple seemed to hold no agua with these guys and they promised there would be police involvement if we didn’t pay up.
After a brief conference, we decided it would be in our best interest to pay the tab and consider it a lesson learned. I forked over a credit card, signed as appropriate, and managed to look sufficiently contrite as the manager told us we were not welcome back in his bar.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I was banned for life from Cabo Wabo.
This track comes from Van Halen’s 1993 album, Live: Right Here, Right Now.
You Really Got Me / Cabo Wabo.mp3