"You're drinking it like a gringo," Chuy said. "Watch."
"Tequila Bum Bum. Because after two of these, your heart goes bum-bum… and after four, your head goes bum-bum against the table."
Mateo looked at his dusty bottle of blanco tequila, then at the half-eaten lime in his bag, and finally at the coconut shells scattered around his blanket. He was about to take a sad, straight shot when a local fisherman named Chuy laughed at him.
They say it was born on a beach in Tulum, during a sunset that turned the sky into liquid gold. A broke traveler — let's call him Mateo — had just enough money left for one bottle of tequila. No mixers, no fancy glasses, no bartender in sight. Just sand, salt, and a stubborn refusal to let the night end sober.