A Motel del Paso Story
Excerpted form Mexico From the Driver's Seat
If you’re thinking of taking a new girlfriend to Mexico for the first time, take heart. It could work out in spite of yourself, but, it pays to know what a motel del paso is.
I’d lured a beautiful young damsel to accompany me on one of my updating trips with the line, AStick with me, kid, and you’ll stay in five star hotels.A few weeks later, we were checking into a motel where she politely pointed out a hair on the bed.
We’d gotten a late start from McAllen so we only made San Fernando, on the Gulf coast, before nightfall. San Fernando is one of those nice little towns a few hours from the border, but just far enough south to have a different atmosphere than the border towns.
An ex-friend had highly recommended a hotel on the south end of town. He’d said it was exactly the kind of place to take a new girlfriend to impress her. My first intimation that he had a different sense of humor than I was when the desk clerk refused to give us the key to the room without a ten-peso deposit. That’s usually a sign that you are not in a five-star resort.
As is the custom in Mexico, I asked to heck out the room before we checked in. My beloved-to-be didn’t like the first room because the toilet ran. That’s what she told me then. Later, after we knew each other better, she told me she didn’t like it because she thought it was sleazy, but thought I’d buy the toilet story better because I’m a light sleeper.
We got another room at the opposite end of the motel, by the swimming pool, which should have been more romantic. The guys hanging around with their bottles of Cuervo, boom boxes and girlfriends in miniskirts detracted from the atmosphere somewhat.
We switched to a third room (I was determined that this would be a romantic place, by golly). In the room next to us, one couple just finishing up while another couple waited in their van. "Champing at the bit" comes to mind. I suppose I should have given up the ghost at that point, but I was "Mexico" Mike and had a reputation to uphold.
My amante-to-be, who was ever-polite, pulled back the threadbare bedspread and pointed to the hairs on the frayed sheet and pillow. A little light went off in my little head and I realized that we had checked into a motel del paso. For those of you who do not know, this is a motel designed for short term occupancy, where local folks can go for a good time. Many married people utilize them when they don’t want to be married to the same spouses. Young couples use them when they don’t have a room of their own. They are not whorehouses, although some professional women do visit from time to time. I’ve stayed at a few over the years and they often have jacuzzi suites and are really classy. What threw me off was that motels del paso usually have either maze-like parking areas or long canvas tarps that cover the garage attached to each room. This design serves to hide the license numbers of the cars so that the guests can have absolute privacy. If you decide to try one of these no-tell motels and want to have a titillating evening, be sure to check it out first. A really good one is very of erotic, with a jacuzzi and X-rate movie channels in both English and Spanish. For some reson, the TV is high on the wall in front of the bed. I remember the one my second ex-wife and I shared on our honeymoon, but that’s another, sadder story.
My affair worked out fine, as my affairs in Mexico often do. We checked out, I got my money back and we checked into a motel I knew. It cost fifteen pesos more than the sleaze motel. Often the difference between charming and functional is only a few dollars. The room was beautiful with a carpet, paintings on the wall, and a wet bar. The bellman took us there by way of the jacuzzi. After we got in, he discreetly came over and turned out the lights. We had a great, romantic evening, in spite of our rocky start. Toby forgave me and is willing to go on another trip. So remember, if things don’t work out the way you want them, maybe they weren’t supposed to in the first place. For me, things always work out better than I could have planned.
"Mexico" Mike is so bad at planning that he has never kept a schedule for more than two days. Once he averaged 50 miles forward motion for three days, although he drove for eight hours. Traveling with him is the ultimate in meandering. Being his boss (or editor) is the ultimate in frustration.