No matter how bad they play, never let a band think you are laughing at them (specially if you are in the front row)

Ten days ago, I visited a bar in Los Cabos. Immediately after crossing the bar's entry, we headed straight to the bar with one main purpose: try my brother's favourite drink: Absolut Peppar on freshly squeezed orange juice. We headed to the bar and asked for it. Barista's answer: No absolut peppar

if you don't know it, this is absolut peppar

Second attempt: Draft beer. Bar tender "Sorry, no draft beer today"

Then, the last  attemp:
Me - Flor de Caña? (my favourite rum)
Barista - Yes we have
M - One mojito please
B - We have almost no spearmint, let me check...yes we have some left
M – nice
B – here you go!

- 5 seconds later -

My brother - and? How is it?
Me - Not enough spearmint, only 4 ice cubes and not crushed, only one part of flor de caña instead of 2 and lots of soda water at room temperature: Summary – not good

We all saddly sat with our sad drinks to hear a band of three: Excellent bassist on his early 50's, jazz lover, wrong band and of course long hair. Singer on her mid-twenties, wearing a very short lycra-tiger dress and platform high-heels with lots of spikes (yes...lots of spikes). Guitar player also on his mid-twenties, excellent left hand (the hand performing tricks) and the worst right hand ever, he played touched the guitar strings the same way he scratches the back of his neck when it itches.

There were three tables with people. One with friends from the singer. The other with a second long-haired jazz-lover (friend of the bassist). The guitar player had no friends watching him play that night (I know why). We were the only real guests and we were on the first row.

After some songs, we left and even thanked the band.

15 minutes after having left the bar, I realised I left my bag with my mobile and my wallet on our first row table. We drove back to the bar, but found nothing. Even the band have left...most probably with my bag. I had 50 pesos on my wallet (approx 3 Euros), an almost new disposable camera and my good old mobile phone (3 and a half years old). I talked with the barista and the waitress, but they saw nothing. 

My cousin is sure it was the bassist.

Maybe it was not the band, but I can really picture them dancing around my burning bank cards, my sony-ericsson and my undeveloped photos. And they surely bought the gasoline to burn everything with my 50 pesos.