Back In Action, or, Still Rotting

Sometimes The Rot comes in bursts. The other day I was leaving my house at four in the morning, at the end of the block, were two young women dressed in Jennifer Lopez urban nightwear. This would not be strange if I lived in the city, but with a much higher bovine population density than bipeds, it gave me pause. Were they in distress? Lost? Kidnapped and abandoned? I asked if everything was all right. “Are you going to the serenade?” they asked. No, I knew nothing of a serenade, and in fact, I informed them, we were in the middle of the countryside. Then a car came barreling down the hill, honking like a lost calf, and the girls ran over and got in. The driver had an ashen face and clutched a bottle of beer which evidently was not his first.

Last night a couple of dudes threatened to shoot me. They were riding my ass in Santo Domingo, so I gave them a shot of my new Rebel 90 210-lumen superflashlight to let them I meant business, hoping to illuminate these young gentlemen as to the proper methods of driving. They pulled alongside me and I gave them another dose of the Rebel 90. They squinted and squirmed, inquiring as to whether I’d like to be shot. I told them that I didn’t mind, that the Rebel 90 would protect me. Problem averted.

This is not to mention the dressed up man wandering the streets of Heredia drunk as other were going to church. Or the street theif who stole a cheap cellphone, was pursued, caught and then professed his innocence. In order to prove to the angry mob that he was no criminal, he even stripped down to his boxers. No phone. The crowd did find it, however, neatly tucked into his anus.

That’s 24 hours of driving around. Every day brings new adventures.


One Response to “Back In Action, or, Still Rotting”

  1. ale Says:

    lo que no contás acá es el origen de la provocación sin mencionar que tus modales no les iban a enseñar nada de lo que suponés a estos tipos y como pusiste en riesgo la vida de otra persona…

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