She loves and worships gay men in a way that is equal parts worrying and hilarious. She wants everybody to be gay. So, imagine her complete and utter glee to see handsome Mexican men openly parading up and down one of the pedestrian streets hand-in-hand with their impossibly more handsome boyfriends. She sighed in complete contentment so often that it was worrying. I first thought she might be having trouble breathing because of the altitude, but it was just gay joy.
We went to Planet Fitness and one of the employees took us on a tour. She showed us all the exercise equipment which we politely nodded at, but she quickly became disgusted with us after she asked what our fitness goals were. “To be tan,” I replied, quite seriously. She scoffed somewhat but controlled her rage and gave us the tour of the massage chairs, tanning beds, and body vibrator things. This looked delightful so we signed up at once.
“You have a, how do you say? The head of a killer!” a woman chuckled at me at the little bookstore where tickets to the museum are sold. I grimaced warily at this odd greeting and entered the museum.
Immediately, I was gobsmacked. The first room is dark, has a terrifying bust of a Neanderthal, and opens up onto the first main room. Skulls and death masks are everywhere. There isn’t a visible surface that isn’t dedicated to the weird and horrible.