Do You Want to Get Rich?
"I'm hungry. Where can we eat around here?"
"You can got to Alejendra's. She'll cook for you. Her place is by the beach." I was sort of hoping Mike the Aztec might go off on his own, but he got in the truck with Carlos and me. At Alejandra's we sat at a table outside and had grilled sea bass and rice and beans and more beer. Mike the Aztec babbled all the while, and I noticed some of the other men at Alejandra's giving him hard looks. "You talk too much," one of them said.
"Callate. No te preocupes. Son buenos chingones. Son intelligentes," he said.
The man grunted.
"You're smart guys, right?" Aztec Mike said to me.
"Uh, yeah," I said. "Where do you piss around here?"
"Just go off to the bushes right there."
I stumbled over to the bushes and took a long piss looking up at the sky. There were more stars than anywhere. More than Palomar Mountain. More than Joshua Tree. Some of them darted off and turned sharp angles, and a big orange one flashed bright and disappeared.
Back at the table I tried to explain about the lights in the sky.
"Oh, yeah," said Aztec Mike. "We see those all the time around here."
I opened another beer, and so did Mike.
"So, John, you want to get rich? You want to retire early?"
"No, thanks."
"You don't want to be a mover, John?"
So I can live here for the rest of my life? "No, I'm happy being a teacher. I get good vacations."
"It can be totally legal," said Mike. "Just take a little shoebox of una de gato over the border. It's not even classified by the government yet. A little shoebox will get you five thousand dollars."
"Una de gato?" said Carlos.
"It's all over the place here."
"What's una de gato?" I asked.
"It's some kind of cactus root or something," said Carlos. "My grandmother told me about it. It's supposed to be good for all kinds of things, arthritis, cancer, diabetes."
"It'll cure your diabetes," Mike told Carlos.
"That's what my abuelita told me."
"Will it get you high? Hallucinate and all that?"
"It's all good. I got some up at my place. Come on, I'll fix you a potion."
"You can got to Alejendra's. She'll cook for you. Her place is by the beach." I was sort of hoping Mike the Aztec might go off on his own, but he got in the truck with Carlos and me. At Alejandra's we sat at a table outside and had grilled sea bass and rice and beans and more beer. Mike the Aztec babbled all the while, and I noticed some of the other men at Alejandra's giving him hard looks. "You talk too much," one of them said.
"Callate. No te preocupes. Son buenos chingones. Son intelligentes," he said.
The man grunted.
"You're smart guys, right?" Aztec Mike said to me.
"Uh, yeah," I said. "Where do you piss around here?"
"Just go off to the bushes right there."
I stumbled over to the bushes and took a long piss looking up at the sky. There were more stars than anywhere. More than Palomar Mountain. More than Joshua Tree. Some of them darted off and turned sharp angles, and a big orange one flashed bright and disappeared.
Back at the table I tried to explain about the lights in the sky.
"Oh, yeah," said Aztec Mike. "We see those all the time around here."
I opened another beer, and so did Mike.
"So, John, you want to get rich? You want to retire early?"
"No, thanks."
"You don't want to be a mover, John?"
So I can live here for the rest of my life? "No, I'm happy being a teacher. I get good vacations."
"It can be totally legal," said Mike. "Just take a little shoebox of una de gato over the border. It's not even classified by the government yet. A little shoebox will get you five thousand dollars."
"Una de gato?" said Carlos.
"It's all over the place here."
"What's una de gato?" I asked.
"It's some kind of cactus root or something," said Carlos. "My grandmother told me about it. It's supposed to be good for all kinds of things, arthritis, cancer, diabetes."
"It'll cure your diabetes," Mike told Carlos.
"That's what my abuelita told me."
"Will it get you high? Hallucinate and all that?"
"It's all good. I got some up at my place. Come on, I'll fix you a potion."
posted by johnz at 11:21 AM
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