I have returned to the US now

A few observations from an all-inclusive resort in Los Cabos, Mexico:

- When you give people all the free booze they want, they take advantage of it. Amongst all the visibly drunk people, my favorite was the Overtanned Middle-Aged Blonde who tottered around, followed at a discreet distance by hotel staff trying to make sure she didn't faceplant in the shrubbery or pass out on the pathway, I assume. We saw her the next night, too, sitting there, her head repeatedly falling forward onto the bar. Girlfriend needs to learn a little about pacing.

- No one ever drinks pina coladas unless they're on vacation somewhere tropical, when some people only drink pina coladas. (Or pinas coladas, as the case may be).

- Gotta hand it to the staff, though; in the face of dealing with a shitload of drunk Ugly Americans, they were totally nice and cheerful and just as friendly as they could be.

One more thing, as I alluded to on Twitter yesterday: We went through immigration and customs in Phoenix. The very last step of this whole process is when a guy asks you if you've brought back any food and takes your customs form that you filled out on the plane. Anyway, as we got up to this last step, we were behind a Hispanic woman and her two kids and a luggage cart full of stuff. At the doorway, there's a faded red line on the floor and a sign that says "Wait behind red line until officer calls you forward." I don't know if she didn't see the sign or didn;t speak English or what, but the woman in front of us went over the red line by like three feet. The customs guy by the sign, who was either Hispanic or Asian (we couldn't figure it out) looks at us all disgusted and says "Guess they don't have stop signs where she's from."

WHAT. First of all, there was no stop sign, there was a faded red line on the floor. Second of all, what the fuck? There's a cheerful "Welcome to America!" for you. Third, I don't know, do they have stop signs where you're from? What a dick.

Anyway, Mad Men recap tomorrow, I guess.