Mix two parts alcohol
and one part half-naked Brooklynites writhing around in a wrestling ring and
what you wind up with is one hell of a Cinco De Mayo celebration, which is what
I found at the Cinco De Mayo Party last Wednesday at Monster Island Basement.
It was not, to say the
least, your typical way to celebrate Mexico’s military victory over France back
in 1862, which has largely become an excuse for Americans to drink tequila and
saunter around in sombreros. Translation: There wasn’t a margarita in sight.
The crowd was treated to a guacamole contest hosted by Junglaya, however, as well as Mariachi music, a Mexican hat dance
and music by Borrowed Eyes, which
all added to the Mexican motif. And what the night lacked in tequila, it more
than made up for in entertainment, which is what event coordinator Rachel Nelson was going for in the
“Everybody has a Cinco De
Mayo party with beer and margaritas, but we wanted to do something that was a
little more exciting,” said Nelson, sipping on a cold can of Presidente from a
cooler behind the makeshift bar.
Nelson says she enlisted
the help of a buxom blond wrestler by the name of Amazon Annie, a celebrity in the wrestling world, who was just back
from showcasing her talents on a Japanese wrestling show, to turn the
Williamsburg warehouse into a wresting ring where scantily-clad competitors
manhandled each other to the enthusiastic coaxing of the crowd. But the novelty
wore off quickly. After a half hour of watching women in bikinis beat the shit
out of men in Mexican wrestling masks, the event became a little less Lucha
Libre and a little more S&M. Not that the crowd was complaining. Luckily
things turned around when the emcee took back the microphone from a
particularly angry pixie, who was screaming for a rematch, to introduce Amazon
Annie as the main event. I quickly realized Annie wasn’t as innocent as her
“She’s got arms of iron.
She’s got legs of steel. She’s 6-foot-tall. She’s got sex appeal… She’s
Amazon Annie!” And without further ado, out came Annie, clad only in a
leopard-print singlet and the distinctive look of blood lust on her face. She
entered the ring to the enthusiasm of onlookers and adamant admires alike. “I
love you, Annie!” screamed one guy wielding a sign that expressed the same
“Did you hear that?”
Annie asked. “He loves me,” she said almost sweetly before crippling any idea
he had of an affectionate exchange. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kick his ass.
I’m not here for loving, I’m here for fighting!” And with that the Amazon threw
down the microphone and gave the crowd what the were waiting for, when she
began throwing an old man around the ring like a rag doll and dominating him in
a way that made me think he enjoyed it. It was all over way too soon for the
crowd, the old man and apparently Annie, because before she’d even celebrated
her first victory, she was in search for another victim (or rather willing
participant). While I jotted down notes for a day down the road, in case I ever
decided to become a Dominatrix myself, quite possibly the skinniest, and
stupidest man I’ve ever seen sidled up to the ring and answered Amazon Annie’s
call for more carnage.
It didn’t take him long
after entering the ring to second guess his decision. And while I couldn’t
quite tell if his screams were ones of pain or pleasure, I decided not to stick
around long enough to find out. I took his cries as my cue to exit.