Day LV

South of the border

    The following year some guys wanted to go to Mexico, a trip of about 150 miles south. I had never taken a vacation or a pass, and neither had my two pals. So, the three of us asked for a 3 day pass. Angel Garth was a cowboy from Dallas, his mom was Tex- Mex, but he didn’t speak any Spanish. He had a cool 1950ish Ford convertible, our ride, and he said he had been down there lots of times. Juan Garza, a short chubby guy, with a natural tan, was a really cool dude with bifocals. He was from East LA, and he didn’t speak Spanish either. I remember him,because I got him out of a jam in Mexico.

     The three of us had been hanging out in the day room for a few days. It was about a year after that bullshit with the beer bottles, and the brass had begun to cut us some slack. Most of us were under a lot of stress, working twelve hour shifts, and half the guys were ATC, Air Traffic Control. They didn’t have a lot of room for mistakes, so they backed off, and we were able to play pool without fear of getting snagged for some shit ass detail.

    Anyway, Angel, Juan, and yours truly played a lot of pool. You name it we played it, nine ball, straight pool, call your shot, eight ball. It’s all we did, every day for a long time. In the mornings before going to work, and in the afternoons when we came home. If nobody was playing, we bogarded the table. By then the first shirt had lightened up a bit. One day Angel says:

     “Ya na guys, we should go to El Paso one of these days!”

     “We need a pass to go that far, Angel.” Juan says.

     “Hell man, I’m game, what we gotta do?” was my response.