RON MEXICO Staff Writer
BROWNSVILLE, TX - The other day, while dining at a local Tex-Mex cafe with my new wife, I ran into a complete moron, of which we are beginning to find out this town is full of - as in one at every streetcorner, and we don't mean the female cops playing at prostitutes.
No, what annoyed me was a slacker waitress slow on re-filling the chips basket.
One of my favorite phrases here along the Mexican border is: "...mas chips!" To date, the waitresses have been good at complying with my request. It's one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-steps to the kitchen and ten back to my table and - voila! - I get my chips. For my salsa, you see. I'm a chips addict from the early 1980s, when my younger days found me chomping on chips with my dates over at Leonardo's Mexican restaurant on Central Boulevard. Leonardo would welcome me with his usual, overly-accented, "Ah, mi matador!" He had some fantastic waitresses who are likely dead by now, proper women who knew their trade, who kept the glass full of drink, the beer bottles moving, and the chips coming. I usually ate about 50 chips at dinner time, every one of them dipped in this or that spicy salsa. Hmmmm. Oooo-la-la. Chips! Mas chips!!!
It's just who I am. But this story is about things that annoy me in town. Here are a few more:
1.) Women ahead of me at the ATM machine who get $10. What's that all about? Can't women handle a hundred dollars in their purse? It irritates the Hell outta me. To the point of saying, "Hey, lady, you better count that cash!" Ha ha. I always get these soulful looks, as if they're trying to tell me that's all their husbands allow them to get.
2.) People at my coffee shop who bitch about the newspaper. Why frickin' buy it if you're gonna complain? One man last week: "Hey, lookit this shitty story on Page 1. How can they put this dogshit on the Front Page?" Easy. They trained for months and months. It's now automatic. Stop whining. You ruin my coffee.
3.) Idiots at the Post Office. "I want to mail this box to Honduras," says a short and stocky man who looks like a true-chump. "Twenty bucks," he is told by the lifer clerk, a sad-faced man who has premature ejaculator written all over his face. He will be a no-nonsense postal service employee for that reason alone. "Twenty dollars?" asks the customer. "Yes," returned tersely. "When will my wife get it?" Clerk: "Three-five business days." By next Tuesday? "It's Friday," notes the annoyed clerk. "Three or five business days may mean next Friday." Customer: "Whaaaaaaaaat?" I shake my head. Morons have won the battle. They will outlive the cockroach. I get my one stamp and paste it on my envelope. It's a birthday card to my ex-wife. We have an okay relationship, so...
4.) People who ask me why I write. "What are you writing about now?" asked the woman at the social. "Novel," I say. "Oh, is it about you?" No, I say, it's invented. "Oh, come come, my dear man. Every novel has something about the writer," she shoots back, playing with the spaghetti straps on her sexy black dress. I shake my head. "What's the plot?" she goes on, smiling and smiling and smiling and annoying me by the second. I tell her it's about a guy who balls just one time in his life, who says it's all that's expected of a Man, that God has told him he doesn't have to ball after that if he doesn't want to." Wild, she says, sounding stupid. I move to the bar. She follows and says, "That book sounds like it's about you." I lie: "Lady, I musta balled 10,000 broads by now." She goes all-nervous and drifts away, glancing back like a praying mantis to look at me every-six five steps. The silk dress makes her look totally gripping, inviting. I tell myself she's closing-time material. The moon always circles.
I'm sure there are at least five more things that annoy me, but we'll have to catch-up next time...
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11 comments:
i know the feeling. my beef is with neighbors who never clean their yards. What do you do?
You move, is what our secretary suggests. Kidding. You may want to call someone at City Hall. Perhaps Commissioner Zamora or the mayor... - Editor
Trashy neighbors? they're everywhere, Patrick! my deal is courtesy and there is no courteus people in Brownsville.
Ron, for Christ sake, who said this was a perfect world. Patience my man, patience.
One good way to get a heart attack is to take life soooo serious, pluuease!!!, Ron take it easy, do what don Pancho does, drinks a cold brusky before he goes to the restaurant to calm his nerves.
Then he is ready for the enchilada plate. Then back to work, to support Rick's Perry chef, who gets around $100.000 a year. And they call themselves conservatives.
how about people who drive like maniacs? they're everywhere!
Don Pancho has his bearings. A brewskie here and there is not bad. Enchiladas, however, are rough on the stomach. (2.) Bad drivers in the Rio Grande Valley are as much a part of the landscape as are bad clothing, obesity, ugliness, barbarian language and slothing. The women, on the other hand, are spectacular... - Editor
Don Pancho is not overweight,5.9 at 169 lbs, works out like a mad man.
I do agree, there are lot of overweight people in South Texas, I said a lot, not everyone. Good point Mr. Editor.
You workout like a mad man? Trying doing it in as sane a manner as possible. You'll likely get more out of it. (2.) Overweight is not a word many people in the Valley want to use or understand. Tamales go straight to the brain and erase that word, along with smart and work and say-no-to-beer. Not knocking local people, just being real... - Editor
Alcatraz, talk to me, I will admit I occassinally, drink a few cold ones, Red Wine is more of my style, but look let us be realistic.
Last year I went to my 20 year re-union, and I was flbbergasted, the head cheerleaders were about 50 on the hefty side.
And so were the guys, I said what happen to you, and they just laughed and ate fajitas as they were going out of style.
God help this nation, puros pansones.
There seems to come a time in RGV culture when people sorta "give up," when they let themselves go. Who knows what that's about? Perhaps it is the oppressive weather, or maybe it is, as we say, the Amazon rivers of beer that are consumed daily. Red wine is good. Shiraz is our taste there, and don't come at us just because it comes from a grape said to have come originally from Iran... - Editor
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