Cabo Nightlife: An All-inclusive Venture

Oct 21, 2013 by

          Dear Cabo, I love you, but your nightlife needs improvement.

          I came to Cabo with a list of must-do clubs recommended by friends, all of whom raved about the nightlife here. Having now been to San Lucas’ tiny downtown area (it can be walked entirely in under five minutes), I assume that the friends who gave me these recommendations were far too drunk to judge quality from . . . I can’t think of a single word to describe what I experienced last night. (Thank God entry was free everywhere.) Each place was essentially the same with different decor: terrible music, indefinable crowd, and free alcohol being used as bait. (Okay, I can’t complain too much about that last part, no matter how much it signifies desperation.) Let’s focus on music and crowd, which are, in my opinion, the two most important factors in making a good club.

          Where to start with the music? I can’t even categorize it. It was just bad and all over the place. It wasn’t top 40 (which would have been distasteful in itself), but it also wasn’t from any one decade that unified all songs. Worse, my ears were forced to bear the entire four plus minutes of every single track. There was no mix. What is the point of a DJ that doesn’t mix music? The beauty of club music is that, if you don’t like one song, a different one is usually less than a couple of minutes away. Every song is supposed to be quickly followed by another before the novelty of the previous one wears off. That’s what maintains the excitement of the crowd. Cabo club owners may as well hookup their laptops to their speakers and put their playlists on shuffle. It would deliver the same result as their DJs, but save them a few pesos. Oh, and the accompanying music videos/makeshift images of rappers with half-naked chicks need to go. I’ve seen this trend popping up at home, and I don’t like it. Music videos should have died along with the floral pants and lined lips of the ’90s. (Oh fuck, floral pants are back? I ignored the memo. I still have nightmares about the floral everything I was forced into as child. Lip liner, stay back!)

          To give you a visual of the crowd, I’ll relay my initial reaction: ugh! It can best be described as all-inclusive. With no visible age cap, if someone was eighteen plus, they were there. For a girl who is particular about crowd, this was not enjoyable. I like a slightly older crowd, as in late twenties to early thirties. Forty-somethings that are more obnoxiously drunk than the 20-somethings (how have they not learned to handle their alcohol yet?) are not my idea of good company. (Note: The next day by the pool, it is always the 40-somthings gossiping about who-did-what-the-night-before-and-can’t-remember.)

          I guess this is what I get for clubbing in a tourist destination that is just that. There are few locals in Cabo. It is a place where people either come to visit or come to work in the tourist industry. As a result, there are no niche clubs, like there are in destinations that people also call home, such as Rome or New York City or – I hate to say it – Toronto. By each of Cabo’s clubs trying to satisfy everybody, they all failed to meet my nightlife standards.

          It was suggested that I wasn’t drunk enough to enjoy Cabo clubbing. Already needing a tequila timeout by day three in Cabo, I was 100 percent sober. However, I refuse to go easy on clubs based on my blood alcohol level, especially when I am almost always DD at home. Nightlife needs to deliver regardless of rum. I take it as a bad sign when I am told that I probably didn’t like something because I didn’t have any mango mojitos blurring my vision.

          Really, I wanted to like Cabo’s nightlife along with everyone else. It’s a big part of why people come here. I should want to drink and dance the nights away in downtown San Lucas’ overrated establishments. In fact, I felt a pang of guilt for not enjoying myself, because I thought that I should. Then I reminded myself that, since starting The Happiness Experiment, I have refused to follow suit with what I should do. The flawed concept of should is exactly what prompted The Happiness Experiment. I don’t do what is expected of me; I act according to my own definition of happiness. With that reminder, I absolved myself of guilt. I won’t force myself back into Cabo’s nightlife to conform to everyone else’s perception of fun. Instead, I’ll indulge in every other aspect of Cabo that I’ve loved thus far.

Happiness Tip: Fuck “should.”

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