Story time with Aaron

It was 1986 and I was a young airman on my way to save the world. I just had to make one stop first:

I’m in the middle of nowhere Arizona.  It’s hot and dusty and since we had nothing better to do with 24 hours off we decided to go to Mexico.  We were a ragtag group thrown together to work on ending the cold war (yes, I’ll take credit for that).  I got here because I was brave enough to volunteer for a world wide remote assignment.  A glutton for punishment I suppose.  Since I and many of the other volunteers were in an area of the country that we have never had the pleasure of before we decided to venture out and explore the great south west. As any large group will do, we broke down into smaller groups and formed friendships. Anyway, one of our little group of four morons decided we needed to visit south of the boarder.  His quest was to find the El Burrow show.  We pile into a car that I had bought for $300 and off we went.  Now I had never been to Old Mexico before and knew this would be quite the experience, but my traveling buddies were bound and determined to ensure we get locked up in a Mexican jail.  As soon as we enter into the border town I felt as if I had walked into a third world country.  I have since been graced with accommodations in regions of the world that made this place look like Club Med but for my first venture into this realm of sub-living it was quite the eye opener. 

“The first thing we need to do is find a club” one of my compañero’s exclaimed.

A taxi cab pulled up and asked us if we needed a ride.  Idiot number 2 spoke up. Screaming “El burrow show.” “Can you take us to the El’ burrow show.”  I’m now shaking my head in disbelief.  Partly because I can’t believe this guy wants to see a chick get it on with a donkey and partly because we are probable the first Americans to actually chase a Mexican taxi away.

After walking for a while we decided to try a new tactic.  The new idea was to find a club and hang out there for a while. Moron number one waved down a taxi and said “take us to where the girls are”.  Hind sight being 20/20 that was probably not the best way to phrase that statement.  We piled into a 1973 LTD and off we went. 

If you have ever been to a border town you know that some areas are at best just O.K. and some are better left to the lower life forms.  We had ventured about 5 miles past the latter.  Stopping abruptly in front of the only building with any resemblance of life the cabbie said, “Girls inside”.  We waved bye to Pablo and stepped out of the cab.  I looked at my fellow gringos and said, “This is a mistake”.  “Let’s just get a drink and check it out” one of them said.  I looked at Mr. Burrow and said, “Don’t even ask about the fucking donkey show”.  A look of disappointment was his only response.

Dark, dank and really eerie is the best way I could describe club kill whitie.  We sat down on the bench in a half rounded booth with one side exposed as if for chairs that the owner could not afford. A waitress of sorts came over and asked us what we wanted to drink.  As she was walking away, 4 of the lovelies ladies the club had to offer came up and pulled the table out from us.  Taking their place between each of us the asked if we could buy them a drink.  This in itself was not what worried me, for I would gladly buy what loosely resembled a woman a drink if it meant sparing my life. It was the big muther phuckers that walked out of the back room and stood by the door that caused me concern.  My friends seemed more interested in their prospective dates. 

I don’t drink, and have no Idea what a beer went for in 1986, but $20 seemed a little high for me.  One look from Sloth at the door and my beauty had her beer.  I leaned over the girl to my right with the rather large stomach and told my sidekick that I felt it was time for us to leave.  He looked back at me and said.  “Dude, I think I can score with this girl.”  As if there was any doubt to the fact.  I then gladly informed him that his girl was with child and I’m questioning the gender of girl number 3.  After coming to their senses we decided it was time to leave.  We need a plan to get out without upsetting the thugs at the door.  Just then Mr. Donkey exclaims “well, I’m broke”.  His girl quietly got up and left.  Like dominos, one by one we all discovered that we had no more cash to spend.  Are girls gone, we walked out without problems and stood outside in the glow of a setting Mexico sun.

It was at this point the realization that we were a good 5 miles inside of enemy territory and no taxi in sight.  Not to mention that hailing a cab would prove to the club onlookers that we indeed still had cash.  We headed off in a northerly direction in hopes of finding the touristy side of town.  Cars without wheels and trash everywhere.  People stopping and staring at these 4 idiots walking around where they obviously shouldn’t be.  We made it two blocks and came out on the same street we originally hailed the taxi at. That fugger took us over 4 ½ miles out of the way to pad the bill.  We were back in somewhat safe territory and back on the prowl…………..