Friday, 21 July 2006 - 23:30

Ok, so after the first 6 hours things began to get pretty monotonous. Same highway, same cars, same scenery, same stupid drivers, even the same friggin' songs on the satellite radio. Due to my incessant blabbing, we failed to take a turn and alamost ended up in Corpus Christi, TX. After realizing what had happened, I decided to stop and fill the tank up one last time. I stopped at an Exxon where this odd gentleman was selling flowers. He kept talking to us at random and saying crap about hot dogs and women. He kept nodding with his eyes at some invisible person and furrowing his brow at him, as if he didn't understand what he was being told. He took the vase he had his flowers in and drank the water out of the vase. On that note, I peeled out because he started walking towards us.

We finally left there and eventually got to the border, albeit the wrong bridge. I hate Ave. Lauro Villar and trying to travel through that part of town, so I said HELL NO to the Tomates bridge. Hey, if you drove 14 hours nonstop on 3 hours' sleep with no help you'd be delirious too...
I followed the banks of the Rio Bravo until I got to the Gateway Bridge (known as El Puente Nuevo to you fellow bilingual types), where I paid the ridiculous $2.25 toll to cross and drove into....a very tranquil, laid-back town. I was shocked. It's like everyone in Matamoros had been put on horse tranqulizers and Wellbutrin. My crew got the green light at customs, we drove past the guards, and proceeded to do our thing. The arrival was very uneventful until we pulled up at the curb, where the usual tearful hugs and salutations were given.

We talked a little while, and my nephew (here known as Tater Chip Thief, or TCT. If you need more explanations see my November 2005 archive) came in to tell me that someone needed to park and for me to pull my van up. Parallel parking is an art here in this town. I went to pull it up some more, and the bitch who lives upstairs wanted to park. To make matters worse, there was some old dork in a beat up van that looked like the kind we all imagined kiddie fiddlers as driving around in offering puppies back when we thought everyone in the 80's were part of three different scenes. They were either:
Satan worshippers who sacrificed children and goats while listening to Slayer (20/20 specials anyone? Baba WaWa was SURE there were babies being skint alive. NBC followed suit thereafter with a 'newsmagazine' where the offered alleged footage of a human sacrifice. Riiiiight.)
Cocaine snorters....OR...*drumroll*
Kidnappers who drove around in vans of the aforementioned style, offering puppies and sweets to kids.

Well, the wiry bitch from next door, who from now on will be called Olive Oyl, came out to demand that our van be moved for the time being, as the dueña of the apartments was here. Was she referring to the woman in the Explorer? I hope not, because this woman was a nobody. Olive Oyl ignored me, like I didn't even exist, and told TCT that we should move and go around the block or something. I looked at her and asked her if she was going to give me gas money for this jodida trip around the block, and if not to keep her mouth shut and to next time direct her comments to me. Olive Oyl blinked at me in disbelief for a few seconds and then went back in her house. The whorehouse. I guess the chubby gringo with a mohawk and sunshades confused her by actually speaking better Spanish than her. I think Olive Oyl is some kind of madame of the night pimpstress Queen Bee type. It's funny, because she has the door slathered with the "Este hogar es católico" stickers everywhere, along with a piece of Aloe, to keep the bad vibes out of her house. I ignored her, and the guy in the van blew the horn again. I was just about to yell at him to go screw himself when he beat me to it. He leaned out the window and told me to 'ignore the old witch and just pull up further towards the broken down pesera microbus'. I looked in disbelief for a few minutes at someone I hadn't seen in three years. It was my paw-in-law, Chewie.

Chewie brings out mixed feelings in me. He's a smart, cultured man. He knows the romantic poets, can read music, and is a trained chef. We can talk the Who, the Doors, Lez Zeppelin, or politics and he won't skip a beat. He's an accountant as well, did I mention that? Yet he lives in a hovel and just got out of jail. Why? He just stole a refrigerator. You see, he's one of those hardcore alcoholics that can't physically get started without a caguama in the morning. If he doesn't he gets D.T. episodes and the shakes and stuff. He lost his family, his home, and every job he's ever come across due to his illness. Rehab isn't an option down here...not for people on this rung on the social ladder. Our family is pretty much as close to the bottom as you're going to get financially. I walked over to him and gave him a dutiful hug and brought him inside. As he got out of his van he reached for his already-open and half-gone caguama of the nasty Corona they sell down here and he limped into our house. I thought Mrs. Gimp was going to cry when she saw him...she really loves her dad despite what all he's done to the family and she goes and gives him a hug. He sees my kids who he hasn't seen in a good 7 years and meets Gimp's smallest one, Chewie's namesake. He talks to them a while, although they really don't know who he is or what he's all about. He has a couple of hours here with the family, almost as if nothing was wrong. Almost. Then, he gets up and limps out to his old van and gets ready to leave...after mustering up the testicular fortitude I told him as I always do that things aren't too late. He nods as he always does, I told him not to get arrested while driving around drinking, and he left in that back-firing van.

I was just getting calmed back down when I heard the door open again. It was my niece SnortTooter and dengue baby! She was summoned to come over and socialize for a little while, under close supervision of course, lest she make off with a wallet or something. As we're opening presents, my bro in law looks and says "Aww look mom, another stereo so they can steal this one too!" and stares intently at his daughter. When she ignores him, he sticks his tongue out at her and whispers for me to put my cellphone in my pocket. I comply gladly and ask her if she's about to pop, since she is very, VERY pregnant. She lacks a month still, but that kid is gonna be a setemecino I can feel it. (That's a kid born in 7th month of his gestation...a preemie)

I asked her if she was walking, and of course she said yes. So I offer to take her home with her new clothes we brought her. She accepts, and we start loading the van. All of a sudden, I'm standing on the sidewalk near WhoreMoan Pointe and I smell a sickly sweet smell I haven't smelled in ages and began to look for whoever was blazing the reefer. I didn't say a word, but my niece nodded over towards a dark corner in the courtyard. Sure enough, there was a bright orange cherry glowing and suddenly an unseen voice yells "QUÉ?" I said "Nada guey, nadie te habló." We left, and I was told street-by-street where to turn until we pulled up at a gate. I looked at between the gate and the door was a sea of mud that this child picks her way through every single day. I help her with the bag, but I could tell she didn't want me to see how she lived, because she told me to leave it on her porch. I did, gave her a hug and a kiss, and told her to take it easy. With that mud and standing water, it's a wonder Dengue baby didn't get malaria. She lives on the corner of Zafira and Aqua Marina...sapphire and aquamarine. Jewels for streets with mud and standing water everywhere.

My bro in law and I stopped at Oxxo after that, bought a couple of Tecate Light tall cans and had them finished before we pulled up at the house. We went to bed, waiting for the next day to come along.

If I didn't call or text you guys it's because my phone isn't working down here anymore. The Mexican signal out-does the American signal now. I called you sleepydirty, but the other guy at your place of employment answered...and the feeble analog signal was lost shortly after that. Sorry...But just know that we arrived safely.