Day 27: Home is where the bar is

A night of partying was followed by a morning of being homeless. It's the first Saturday of the cervantino festival. Accommodations? None.

We sat on the sidewalk in the plaza with our bags, trying to give the sad forlorn, "we're homeless and pathetic" look to passing by tourists.

At 7pm we decided to head to our bar, "bar fly," thinking maybe if we show up with all our shit people will talk to us, they will realize we are stranded and homeless and offer us a place to stay. If that were to fail, we would take the ride offer back to Queretaro and stay once again with Paulo or one of the many couchsurfers there. After being at the bar for approximately 30 minutes, we had our offer: the bartender said we could stay at the bar.

After the previous night of partying (2 hours of drunken sleep), I was ready to pass out right that very second...however, its' Saturday night, cerventino festival, and we're at the cool alternative younger crowd bar.
So...
the bar closes at 4, by 5 we have literally closed the bar down. I crawl onto a comfy mattress, by night used for bar goers, by morning used for employees and random Kalamazooian travelers, and finally fall to sleep.

Yes, I slept at the bar. Yes, it smelled like the day after a party. And yes, they treated us like the princesses we obviously are.