The bar was as packed as possible (it IS tiny and good). I hurried in front, then in the back of the band, finding a perfect little corner table to put my margarita down as I started dancing around, using up all the space I had. Making sure my arms weren't left behind in the fun, I threw them over my head and into other people because when the music hits you, you might as well hit back.
Break time! the singer yelled and I howl like an entire full moon wolf pack, licking the salt from the glass and emptying most of the drink in one sip. The taste of Mexico combined with Bangkok's sweet scents of sticky heat and the sounds of the Deep South makes my body shiver with delight.