Once upon a time in Mexico

[DrunkenBoxing]

The restaurant, that is, 2 blocks down from my abode.

After a 6xer of miller lite, I decided that what would do me best is some enchilidas and tacos at the worst of the worst mexican joints in town. The secret to this lace, however, is that diablo himself pours the drinks at this joint. Therefore a 4.75 beam and giner is really a 4.75 beam and giner. Good for them.

Observations in Mexico:

The gorup of 4 college girls celebrating a brirthday. The blonde, giggling one woudl have been fun but alas, 1 month before th divoce is final and the commonwealth doesn't look kindly upon sticking your precious bits inot the nether regions of some young lass who doesn't happen to be your evil, vengueful soon-tobe ex-wife. So intead I enjoy my enchildads, taco, nchos, and beam and ginger. That is, until, I decide tha tht e pressure in my bladder is too great to stand. So I retreat into the darkest shittter in mexico. Is anyone else bothered by walking into the john when the light is off? I have visions of large men tiwht our virign mary tattooed on their chests accousitng me to see if I habla and what might be the ocntent of my wallet. Nothing such ahppens and I'm able to retutn to my table where the busboy has already cleared everythign, including my newly minted drink.

I learn, however, that I am dealing with professionals when the waitress appears from the heavens with yet another drink, on the house, for the lapse in efficency. FSM bless them, they understand a man at work. No sooner am I seated again do I notice the horibble couple seated next to me. He's obviously in his late 40s, just so hair signifying that he's either a salesman or wants to be desperately and is stuck in marketing with the rest of the fucking losers. She is early twenties but has been rode hard and put away wet a few too many times and bears the scars of the emotional whippings she has endured over the years in her longing attempts to become a trophy wife. He in his office best and her in a velour baby blue jogging suit threaten to ruin my evening. But I am prepared for this, as I am surrounded by the worst of the worst and the best of the best, so I chug my drink and stumble out of the door.

I hang a hard right into the cheapest convenience store in town. Unfortunately, habeeb informs me that the credit card machine is "no worky" so I am forced to enter the 7-11. A 20 of miller lite and a pack of smokes later I am on the road, headed towrads my apt a mere 2 blocks away.

Why drive this? Because it is bloody cold out and the mexicans are a vicious bunch, full of tequila and memories past of tijuana and too many gringos defiling their national heritage for $5 a pop. One must be careful aroudn them; they may appear to be a jovial bnunch, singing and drinkign into the night before they wake up at 5:30 to build your home. But given the chance they will shank you, enjoy the strawberries of your lovely 30 year old blonde trophy wife, and sell your daughter into the slave trade faster than a arubian on a dark night.

I pour it on on the way home, listening to the 4 cyl boxer engine the way my forefathers must have enjoyed the sound of 8 cyls of pure fury hammering away at the night, tires squealing and exhaust flames buring into the night. Home arrives and I sit on the back porch enjoying a beer and a smoke. It is only 9pm and nobdy nows what the night has instore. Viva la drunkatution.

[*****]

Where's that miserable Samoan attorney? You sound like you'll need plenty of legal advice before this thing is over. Of course this blows my weekend...

[MeanOldLady]

yeah, you really have to watch out for those mexicans. they stand around on street corners idly, looking to attack someone. "look, he's white! let's get 'im!"

[DrunkenBoxing]

yeah, you really have to watch out for those mexicans. they stand around on street corners idly, looking to attack someone. "look, he's white! let's get 'im!"

Yeah, on undrunk reflection I deserved that one. That paragraph didn't turn out the way I intended. I was going to reflect on how two latino guys sitting out in front of the laundry place attached to the first convenience store were the most normal people I saw all night. Waiting for the laundry, watching the world go by, happy as can be. Somehow between the beam and miller lite it morphed into that little diatribe.

It's also way too biting of the Doc's style. I'm still working on my own voice for writing but I reed Hey Rube! and watched FLLV a week ago so I'm heavily influenced at the moment. Oh well, you can't get better if you don't practice.

[MeanOldLady]

i'm sure you didn't mean any harm by it, and it was an otherwise funny and well told story despite (or perhaps because of?) the drunken typographical errors.

good times. i have stories about the real mexico that.... oh god, i have bad tequila hangovers just thinking about it.

[Malkor]

good story, if you look through drunken haze that is, still thats what places like this are for, welcome to the fold

[vat69]

you want a good time in mexico? you should go read on the road. the bit where they go to the mexican brothel and stuff. craaaaazy.