Cinco de Mayo is an American holiday fabricated as an excuse for you to wear a sombrero for the entire night and get wasted off of cheap tequila. Let's be clear, we're not saying don't have fun tonight... just don't do the following things.
1. Don't think it's Mexican Independence Day. Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexico’s Independence Day. This is the day Mexico had an unlikely win against the French at the Battle of Pueblo. The actual Mexican Independence Day is celebrated on September 16. You’re going to look like an idiot if you’re stumbling around Olvera Street wishing everyone a Happy Independence Day on May 5 (and frankly, on September 16 too).
2. Don't be a stereotype. Don't be the non-Mexican guy at the party with the fake mustache wearing a sombrero with sunglasses in the shape of margarita glasses that you bought at Party City. And definitely don't splurge and get yourself a piñata filled with Chiclets. You might think that you're celebrating diversity, but picking up a Chihuahua at a party while singing the opening to “La Cucaracha” just makes you look like a pendejo.
3. Don't get trashed. We know it's tempting to make a “Cinco de Drinko” event on Facebook, but you must resist the urge at all costs. You're better than that, Los Angeles. This is not St. Patrick's Day 2.0. You're not making up for lost drinking from two months ago. Besides, it's a Tuesday. Keep it classy and avoid coming into work still wearing a poncho because you beer bong-ed an entire case of Tecate and hooked up with the driver of a fiesta bus.
4. Don't practice your Spanish (today). Wandering into East LA and speaking third grade Spanglish to everyone you see just because it's Cinco De Mayo isn't engaging in another culture. It's offensive—especially if you ignored tip number three and got super drunk.
5. Do as we say, not as we do. I bet you’re wondering what we’re going to be doing on Cinco de Mayo. Look, we know that we're going to go out and drink way too much. You’ll probably find us slurring a “muchas gracias” to the first person who offers to hold our sombrero while we throw up in a back alley on Cesar Chavez Avenue. Even though we explicitly told you not to. Lo siento, not lo siento.