The 'Brero

I went to the Devil Rays game Saturday night, where the theme was the celebration of Cinco De Mayo, which is like Mexican St. Patrick's Day in that everybody pretends to be, and pretends to care about being, a member of a different ethnic group for exactly one day out of the year. A bunch of people from work went and our boss had gotten a suite for us. Now I'm normally not really a suite kind of guy, however I am definitely a sombrero guy, which was the giveaway item at that night's game, in keeping with the theme. I had to have one.
Unfortunately, I was running too late and they had run out of them by the time I got there. I was absolutely crestfallen. However, I don't give up easily and I pride myself on being resourceful. When I really want something important and valuable, be it a tin toy robot or a cheap straw hat, I will ultimately not be denied. I noticed the staff had their own sombreros, so taking a page from the Ed Belfour playbook, I approached a suite attendant named Brandi and said, "Brandi, I will give you one billion dollars for your sombrero". She laughed and declined, which was good because, like Ed Belfour, I clearly did not have one billion dollars nor the ability to get my hands on that much money if called upon to do so. I tried again with an offer of $20 and she said "Oh, you don't have to do that. If you really want it, you can have it". I gave her a business card and said if I could ever do anything for her, she should look me up. That was a pretty easy trade to make since somberero or no sombrero, any time a woman named Brandi ever looks me up for a favor, I'm going to say yes. So I had my own sombrero and it was instantly my most prized and treasured possession, an honor it was sure to hold for at least the next few hours.
Now suitably festively adorned, I felt good about rooting the Rays on to victory (in extra innings) over the Oakland A's. I only had one margarita, very early in the game because I absolutely refuse to drive impaired, but the sombrero helped me feel authentically Mexican enough to cheer in Spanish. As it turns out, I speak world class caliber Spanish and there can be no doubt that my cries of "Arroz con pollo!" and "Diablo frijoles!", "Vios con queso!" and "¿A qué hora es un perro?" helped inspire Ty Wigginton to hit two home runs. That, and the sombrero of course.
Afterwards, a group of us went across the street to Ferg's for chicken wings and more camaraderie. It was fight night in Vegas and Ferg's had the pay per view showing, so I got to witness Floyd Mayweather Jr. enter the ring wearing what? A sombrero! I can't believe a big time boxer was ripping off the Devil Rays for promotional ideas, but there he was. During the fight, we listened to commentary from a man in the back of the room who sounded exactly like Louis Armstrong. I already found this hysterically funny so I didn't turn around to look at him because if I caught a glimpse of anyone standing there wearing a tuxedo and holding a trumpet I would have wet myself. Anyway, Mayweather went on to win the fight, further validating the mojo of the 'brero.
Upon arriving home, I was walking up to the apartment when a woman in the pool noticed the sombrero and yelled out "Happy Cinco De Mayo! Come have some margaritas!", which resulted in Cinco De Mayo lasting deep into Seis De Mayo.
Viva El Sombrero!