COLUMN: Breakfast Overlooking the Sea of Cortez

By Tobin Barnes
Today we have to hop into a taxi and ride a few miles down the road to the Westin Hotel to hear about time shares. That is, if we want two free passes to play golf on the “best course in Mexico.”

This is going to be a totally mercenary activity on our part. Cold-blooded, actually. We are taking our minds along with us, not our hearts. In other words, no way in bloody hell are we going to buy a time share. Guaranteed. They’re wasting their time on us. You can bet on it. We’re just in it for the goodies.

As I told you before, Alberto promised us the sun, moon, and stars at the Los Cabos Airport if we would only listen to a 90-minute presentation as we eat a free breakfast. Made it sound like somebody would be up at a podium talking while we’d barely have to pay attention. All we had to do was mindlessly enjoy our sausages and pancakes. No fuss, no muss. Then that same day we’d be playing on a Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course—the best in Mexico.

Well, so far Alberto was right, at least about the taxi ride from our resort to the Westin. Paid for—no problem. Next we’re shepherded up to the time shares lobby where a three-piece Mexican string band is playing lilting airs near a breathtaking overlook of the azure Sea of Cortez. Nice touch.

At the desk there, we’re given a questionnaire on which, before long, we’re confronted with a question about our income. We look at each other, knowing that we’re about to get our raggedy butts tossed outta there soon as they see how little we make. But, heck, we’re not about to lie and maybe spend the rest of our lives in a dingy Mexican jail on some obscure perjury law. So we put down the sad facts.

Doesn’t seem to phase them. Maybe they think we’ve got a well-endowed trust fund or something, and I’m teaching high schoolers for a hobby—you know, like rich eccentrics sometimes do to pass the time. Uh huh.

Anyway, we’re soon introduced to a nice guy named David, who says he’s originally from Tijauna. Turns out he’s our time shares salesman. Yeah, he’s nice and we’re nice right back at him. After all, he thinks he’s going to sell us something, and we think we’re going to get free stuff. Nice all around.

But unlike what Alberto may have indicated—and who really knows with Alberto—there isn’t going to be someone speaking at a podium that we can easily ignore. Oh no, it’s going to be face-to-face with David.

And, no doubt, we have a nice breakfast there, talking about non-time share-type things, but then he begins his pitch, starting high and going lower and lower as seems to be the norm in Mexican Sales Strategy 101. Midway through all this—whole thing takes more like two hours than the promised 90 minutes—he gives us a tour of the place, and we agree, it’s all top-notch.

But back at the breakfast room/sales cooker, we’re not budging, despite the fact that champagne corks are popping all over the place. In other words, other customers are budging and buying, and whenever that happens, the successful salesman pops the cork and everyone in the room claps. It’s a party atmosphere, especially for the salesman who just made the sale.

No progress for our David, however. So he says he’s got to go talk to the manager (sounds kinda like a car dealership, doesn’t it?). When he gets back, David tells us he’s been authorized to give us a special deal. We can have our time share every other year instead of every year and at a price he figures even a South Dakota teacher can afford.

Well, you’d be wrong about that, David. So adios amigo, and, hey, where do we pick up our golf course passes, senor?

We’re directed to a small office a short distance away. And sure enough, we get everything Alberto promised: shuttle fare reimbursement ($28), taxi fare back to the airport for our departure, taxi fare back to our resort from here at the Westin (all fares paid in pesos), a coupon for a free meal in Cabo San Lucas, and a pass for two rounds of golf at the Pamilla Resort and Golf Course.

I’d almost kiss Alberto if he were around.

Best course in Mexico? Here we come.