Tijuana Gringo |
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Go out. Walk around the park in the morning light. Some cholo-looking guy is jogging around for his exercize, brown arms splattered with tatoos, wiry muscles tensing as he stretches and runs. A shoeshine man looks ascance from the little hut where customers will sit raised high above the sidewalk. I buy sweet rolls from the shop around the corner.
Their doughnuts aren't half bad to think a short while later, writing this over coffee and paper and pen. Almost up to stateside standards. Remember what Hector said: Mexico makes better tacos, the U.S. makes better hamburgers. Found a place several weeks ago by the corner of 3rd and Madero where the burger was decent with fries and coffee for two something and tip change.
La Tapatia or Guadalajara but I didn't discover it, no, Columbus, I was told about it, my sherpa guide Luis described it, remember him? He's also the artist who turned me on to Tacos y Algo Mas at 2nd and Negrete. "Los Condimentos" my mamacita Maria calls it. Mmmm nam nam. Weird. Everytime I say the Mexican word for yum yum (nam-nam) I think about my father and other veterans. Remind me to tell you a story one told me once....
I'm hungry. Have another pan dulce with my morning coffee. Wonder why I don't write more here. Yeah, you guessed it. I'm angling toward another poetry contest. This one's in Spain. Except it's not in Spain. It's an autonomous Spanish city on the coast of Morroco....