Fast as They Come

              I was loaded, but nothing in comparison to my driver. He was coloring outside the lines, drink in one hand, and shifter in the other. I removed my seatbelt and took a big swig from my caguama, I saw no point. Cars were passed, blind corners tested. At the apex of the slightest bend, he would stomp the gas. The man driving went by Tio, as in uncle, to my friend, who brought me here. Why did I trust this man? Our last and only encounter was when I arrived to Morelia, Tio picked us up from the airport and bribed a guard to let us go. Because that’s how things work here. After the airport, he left me and my friend to the mercy of the local taxi drivers. On our first ride, we were pulled over and I was dragged out for a beating and told to hand over all my money. Never again will I trust a stranger in a strange land. After a week behind the cartel lines, I needed to get home, and Tio was the man for the job.

              Tio was ripping a line off the restaurant table with his amigo when we met for lunch. And by lunch, he meant a couple tacos, three or four beers, and a half a dozen mezcal shots. Home seemed very far away. We grabbed some cervezas to go and I got in the car, hoping to have the opportunity to get back out. Do not fly zone, more like do not drive zone. We flew down the crumbling highway, not even Death could catch us. This was the in-between, the law of the land here shifted daily. Occasional police cars, military rigs, pimped out American pick ups with a threatening presence. Anyone with a dick big enough to swing could parcel out their power, as no toes are stepped on. All of a sudden, I was yanked out of my drunk stupor as we bounced off the main road. I looked out my window to a three story white cement house, with a row of palm trees and a gun man standing guard out front. A stark contrast to the small homes and ranches sprawled throughout the countryside.

              We were not invited in, but two friends (or dealers or both) of Tio came out to meet us. Right off the rip a man with one eye complemented my blue eyes and asked for one. Very funny if you were not me and not there. More Mezcal. More lines. They offered me their protection, call any time. Tio puked of excess. A military vehicle with a flatbed full of armored camo men and weapons showed up. Nothing but looks of contempt were exchanged and they left. We took this as the cue to get the fuck out. Was this life here, so casual, so violent? Corruption and poverty, drugs followed suit. It all radiated from the city, where peace and order prevailed. The inbetweeners ride like hell, for the fast life is all they will know. Tio, thank you for the ride.