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November 06, 2005
Plato de Gato
the pillow smelled of mildew and I had tried to light it on fire earlier in the evening but the wife had warned me that we would have no pillow upon which to lie and so I let the flame dwindle...I poured the rest of my drink into the drawer of the nightstand and flipped off the light. However, sleep never quite took...if it wasnt the plotting of mosquitos and the plotting of my counterplots, it was various members or tandems of the drunken Bagota dance troupe wacking on the front gate every 15 minutes, trying for their beds or toilets, cackling at the wall or to one another in a volume that would warrant a moving violation in the suburbs of West Virginia. The last, and worst of these attacks came at 5:30 AM, and rather than drop a table of top of them (I was on the 2nd floor)I opened a bottle of warm beer and washed my face in the tiny sink...We had a bus to catch out of here at 7 and I figured better to be early than sober. I woke the woman who ran the hotel and told her that there had been no hot water for any of the 4 days that we had stayed there even though we had been assured that they had some, and that I had adjusted the room rate accordingly, then we headed for the bus stop....barefoot indians in moth eaten hats kept us company as we waited for the bus to come. It never did. Apparently you have to let the man in the office know the day before that you want to leave, then he´ll call the driver and the bus makes a detour to come and get you...so we were stuck in San Augustine another day...We checked into the last room at the Colonial, it was a festival weekend and getting a room was not easy, I did not want a room, I wanted out of this town but my fractured spanish did not translate a word of this to any effect...So I leaned on the bed and chewed my fingernails, spitting them at the mosquitos who mustve followed me from the last hotel...sitting on the balcony inhaling emmissions from the oversized school buses spilling goats and farmers from every opening, with a roof that looked like friday night on the high school bleachers, watching ...a few sharply detailed torsos and asses passed by and I counted the clacks from the horses hooves. This helped pass fifiteen minutes or so, then I opened The Old Patagonia Express and was saved until the lunch time stomach grumbling started. Downstairs in the restaurant, pleasantly enough, the waiter was able to understand my order and I got a decent chicken breast and some cracked beans. I asked for some pepper and he brought me hot sauce. the Pepsi was of course; warm. Ice was something strictly confined to the television. I spotted a vetinarian office across the street and made a mental note to go in and ask for some Ketamine after I finished my slop. I had tried sitting in a bar and getting drunk like a decent human being with the wife last night but we soon learned that the barmaids doubled as whores and every time we laughed at one of my clever commentaries they thought we were mocking their moonlighting and began to give Nicole nasty looks, thinking that perhaps she was cutting in on their action somehow...I could not bring myself to get involved in one of the coke deals that was going down in the darkness of the back bar so we left....We bought empanadas and some other deep fried shit from a street vendor and sat of a curb with the rest of the begotten, I found a nail in one of my empanadas and traded it to a boy for a chicklet...then we went back to the hotel to finish the vodka.....
Posted by Drexler at November 6, 2005 10:48 AM