Special to The Tribune
McALLEN, Texas - I got there late. When I spotted her, she was with this other dude, a rough-looking, older man who looked sickly, although it could have been the night's hard booze. This party town at 2 Ayem is a sight for gerontology nurses, that army of aging hipsters parading younger chicks is as visible as are the bouncer's bulging muscles. Romance, Valley-Style. I'm learning the ropes, man. It's all I can say now.
She looked black from where I stood at the bar. Pretty black, legs like the actress Juliet Prowse, lovely and healthy, energetic, like they could go all night. What she was doing in the City of Palms was the mystery for me. Was she from Houston, or Dallas? I should've walked my ass over to her side and asked. Something, however, told me the frown-faced bozos at her side were there to keep flies like me off her. I swear she looked like those black women in Paris, all ready for a night of lights, an hour-long dance on the dusty, wooden floor.
Men go through this all the time is what I hear, even here in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. Beauty pops in at the wrong time, like when you're at Taco Palenque on N. 10th Street here, or at The Vermillion bar in Brownsville. And, invariably, these pretty birds, are with the wrong man, forever, scruffy, leather-bound clowns whose bodies and faces belong elsewhere, like in Mexican drug trade movies or the pages of a Central America nature magazine.
How does a guy make his move in the Rio Grande Valley? It's not like it is elsewhere, is what the locals like to say. In Dallas, a wink is as good as a nod; in the Valley a wink at some woman can draw gunfire. In the Big Apple, where beauty is beauty, the hook-ups at midnight yield a better crop simply because the crop is all-good, as they say. In the RGV, a good-looking woman is as rare as a good avocado at HEB. It's a crapshoot, yes sir.
So I drank on into the noisy night. A band onstage wailed away at a Rod Stewart song I hadn't heard in years. Rod Stewart in the Valley? Okay, why not? I expected George Strait even at the tortilleria. Him, or Selena. Can't dance to Selena just yet. We'll see next year about this time. I should be dancing like the frontman of Little Joe Y La Familia. Put me in jail, baby, ha ha ha ha.
Yeah, well, I'm headed to that same Entertainment District bar to see is she's there tonight. What are the chances? None, I tell myself. Just another Valley mirage, a beautiful moon-lit scene in a clear driveway puddle.
She's back in Chicago, for sure...
- 30 -
12 comments:
when I see a pretty woman at a bar, I like to send her a drink. If she looks at me when the waiter tells her I bought it for her, that's when I'm in. if you know what I mean.
The drink is old school. I send over a joint! wrapped in $20 bill. it works believe me.
Common you guys, some of these women want someone to talk to them. They are interested in money, they are looking for companions.
As a woman once told me after a hard night of drinking, "you can share my bed all night long, but in the morning, I like to wake up by myself."
Bulow, becareful, some of these gorgeous chicks, belong to the Cartels.
a woman at a bar in San Juan told me she can spot a fish as soon as he walks in. She says she will have him pay for her drinks all night long and then some bruiser guy walks in and tells the guy the night's over. cold hearted. Jungle out there, man.
ANONYMOUSES:...In the final analysis, Valley women are no different than women elsewhere. They love, they cry, they bleed, they dream. And, here, they sustain the sort of abuse from men that easily rivals what African women are going through in that continent. If you look into the eyes of a Valley woman, you can see forever, all the way to the heart of our Mamas... - Editor
I knew a good woman once. then she met another guy and she left. I don't trust them anymore. How could she leave me? i'll never know.
(I knew a woman once) Anon, not to insult you, but she was probably leading you on, besides they have the right to do that.
Not all Women are bad, some have gone through bad expierences. Forget it and move on.
I met a girl once, I use to think I could with her forever. But she took a good job and good by Irene.
I saw her at El taquito, with more kids than I care to count, living with some loser.
When she noticed I was looking at her and recognize me, she looked towards the table, as if she could read my mind.
Now that I think about it, I am glad she broke up the romance.
Good post, Patrick and Bulow, good article, brings back old memories.
My advice is to go out and have a good time and not worry about it. women, like the wind, come and go.
You got it Anon, I had my share of flings, it was okay, now I am loyal to one, period.
good post.
Folks there will be plenty of dampsels in distressed come the New Year. Let the celebration beging early, like tonight. Plenty of Black Jack Daniels, Wine, beer, Mama Chapas beans a la charra. We are okay folks and plenty of women. All kinds big, skinny, not so big, one tons, four by fours, 2by 2's you name it, the Valley has them, all types all calibers. Yessiirrreeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!
That girl on your picture, with the coat on, sure has some pretty large legs. HHMMMM, not bad, not bad at all. Just an observation, no offense.
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