Your's Mine and Alfredo's

Yours, Mine and Alfredo's

Computer crash left many of my older stories lost in space. I'm starting to re-write most of them. All of which, are unfortunately true.



I think it was around 1998 when girlfriends, parents, and other various loved ones finally stopped me. Spending my book money on the good stuff, I guess, was more than they could stand. I didn't really blame them, but I couldn't stick around. I left pretty soon after the meeting and drove 16 hours straight from Vienna to Austin Texas,where holed up in a tall girls apartment for a couple of weeks, and wrote things on napkins down on sixth street that I didn't really mean, that I would hopefully one day, burn. When I drove out of the parking lot of her apartment complex, I halfway wanted her to stop me. I left with the window down, I can remember, listening for a holler, or a whimper at least. Nothing. Looking back, I can see how I probably didn't mean that much to her either. Someone to eat with and grind on for a while. I drove the rest of the day to El Paso, lonely as a bird, whispering like one to the radio and my dog in the seat beside me. Texas, is a long bleak state, and by the time Id gotten to the Western Edge, I was worn way down. I couldn't stop now. I walked over to a motorcycle dealership, and looked around, noticed a small Mexican fellow browsing around like I was, just passing the time. As I headed out to the car he stopped me, and began a long conversation about Colorado, where he was from. I'd never cared to much for Colorado. It seemed like that's where you went if you're parents paid the way. Ski instructors, Microbrews, Aspen Trees, Lamborghinis. I was still mad at being poor.

Somehow Alfredo talked me into his hotel room, where we drank a bottle of brandy, and he told me of the wonders of Mexico. It wasn't long before I'd stashed most of my money, grabbed a buck knife from a sack in the truck, hopped in his civic and headed to Juarez. It was on the way down that he pulled out a Cambells soup can full of Vicadon, offered me one, and told me the real reason he was headed down was to pick up 25 pounds of marijuana, to bring back across the border. I, as can be expected, freaked the fuck out. After calming the giant in his civic down, by assuring him that tonight wasn't the drop off night, that he was just scouting, I somehow kept on going. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. We were on a dark highway, and I was a pipsqueak of the road. Once we got to Juarez, the a really weird old west seemed to surround us. Tranny Hookers lined the dirt streets, people beating on the windows at the American boy. The only one in Mexico that night, or so it seemed. Getting in was easy, and I already wanted out.



Alfredo immediately pulled up to a bar and got out, telling me to stay put. Small brown men surrounded the car; beat on the windows even more. "Amigo!"

Finally I got out, at least to let them see how tall I was, how muscles bulged, how mean I thought I was. They didn't care, and surrounded me, lifting me like an angel in their brown clouds. Alfredo came out yelling in Spanish, and split the sea. Explained to me in English that Id probably lost my watch and wallet. I hadn't. They were in my coat, zipped up.

"I wasn't that stupid," I said.

"Yeah." and we were off.

Walking into a strip club, Alfredo showed me the score he held in his hand, a big fat white ball of Cocaine.

"You want some?"

"Nah, I quit."

I was being honest, and while I watched the naked women writhing and Alfredo keep disappearing, my heart beat fast, and I thought about America. I was afraid of the men in the corners holding shiny things and looking down at me over thick sickening moustaches. Bugs crawled in them I knew it. In their bodies. Worms.

We visited several clubs that night; some which I'm convinced were brothels. Pool Tables and big leather belted Amigos, women all there for the taking. I could barley finish a beer. Dead ass sober for the first time in a long time. I probably should have enjoyed it, but Mama still meant something back then.

Once Alfredo was satisfied, our journey back to El Paso began. We didn't get two blocks before the Federales pulled us over, for riding on the sidewalk to get around a big hole in the dirt street. That's right sidewalks and dirt streets.

They pulled us out of the car and handcuffed us, talking in Spanish to Alfredo and to me, who didn't understand. They took the license plate off the car, and Alfredo told me they found the Cocaine, on him, and in the car. A bunch of it. We were fucked, as he said it. Fucked.

I sat down on the street, leaned my back against the car, and went through all the horrible things I had heard about Prison, Mexican Prison. My Hands were behind my back, and I crushed a handfull of dirt into a ball in my hands. I banged my head against the car. I cried.

Alfredo was busy talking with the policia. Ranting, screaming, and crying to them.He ran over to me with his hands behind him and asked if I had $25 bucks. If I did, we could get out of it. He'd spent all his money. I told him I had a 50 dollar bill in my coat pocket. The police came and got it out.

They let us go, and as I settled down, Alfredo got back in the car, talking in Spanish again, sweating, laughing like he'd known it all along.

I noticed the police car following us, as we pulled up to a little market store with the lights on late at night.
"What the hell are we doing?"
"I've got to get change for this 50."



Thats not a lie, the cops let us get change for the 50, and took 25 dollars, and let us go, with the cocaine.

When we got to the border I asked Alfredo to throw it out. No way. As we waited in a real short line of cars, I got out among the Mexicans. Pushed them back from around me, and jogged over to the walkway. I made it across the border alone, and hitched my way back to El Paso, to my dog, and my truck. The sun was coming up as I got there, and I saw Alfredo's car parked in front of his room, with the light on, waiting for me. Him and his cocaine awake in the morning like only a terrible man can be. I quietly slipped into my truck, and pulled off towards California as fast as I could ride.