Generally speaking I'm not big on mainstream touristy outings or souvenirs - I loathe sightseeing and I can proudly say that I do not own a single Eiffel Tower key ring, I-love-New-York t-shirt or a bottle with coloured sand from some beach you thought you'd remember the name of in 5 years.
I have very few pretentious bones in my body (I watch Keeping up with the Kardashians for crying out loud) - but when it comes to behaving like a classic tourist, I simply refuse.
However, as my love for tequila was born back in circa 2001 and has been alive and kicking ever since, I could hardly go to the mekkah of tequila without bringing a bottle back with me. It would have been rude not to.
And obviously, to show how amazingly hard core I am, it had to be one with a maggot in it, 'just like on TV'. The minute after I said that, I did wish for a second that the ground will swallow me whole after being revealed for what I was. A tourist. Oh the horror. The fact that I was a pale assed blonde Swedish girl in a store that sells glow in the dark sombreros wasn't enough of course.
Just so we're clear - I will not be eating the maggot.
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| Looking closely, you can see the little guy swimming around at the bottom of the bottle. Or maybe more like chilling.... Chillaxing? |
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| Do they put them in when they're already dead? |
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