Privilege and Blow in Puerto Lopez – Jack Den

 You are in some shit now. Though I have been in places like this before — just never in an actual cell. I began to think of the last twenty-four hours and all that transpired. Yesterday I was waking up in the midafternoon after a night full of some of the best coca I have had in awhile. Now, in a world away, I’m locked in a cell next to some haggard looking man who’s picking at his skin and moaning every few seconds. FUCK. I’d go back if I could so that I never touched the stuff yesterday. Why I thought I could bring it with me as I left my apartment last night I can’t tell ya… But that’s the kinda confidence it can give ya. All I can think is that somebody must have tipped the federales off about the gringo they saw walking around with a powder donut hanging out of his left nostril.

I had a phone call earlier in the day. I called a guy I know who is apparently one of the affluent members of Puerto Lopez. If anyone can get me out of this mess he can. He has to get me out of this mess man.

The cell, with a shit bucket over in the corner, is luxurious in comparison to might be waiting for me if Juan doesn’t call in some special favors. Though he will. When I first got here I met him at a bar serving the shit on CD cases. He told me if I “EVER” run into trouble here in Puerto Lopez to call him and he’d take care of it. I never asked any more but I heard around town that Juan’s family owned a big hacienda right outside the city and rented out more than few casitas to the organized crime in the area.

So I’ll get out of this mess. Trust me. A gringo always gets away with it right. That’s how the world works.

That guy is still picking his skin and moaning in the corner. I find myself sadly inching closer to the shit bucket than to him.

“Juan!” I scream in my mind as I see him walk in the door. He’s saying something to the guards at the door and they let him slide in. Never have I been happier to see that slick grin on his face. They opened the cell and let him slide in to talk.

“Ay amigo, tienes problemas ay?” he said with a quick laugh.

“The policia say they found you with more than a little coca in your pockets. It’s going to take more than monedas to get you out of this one, my friend…”

I was squirming.

“BUT, I think you will be out of this place in a bit. I will call some people. “

There was a relief. If I can just get out of this cell I’m sure I can get to the port here catch a ship out of the country with some fake papers and a little grease. And I think Juan as the same idea. It’s moments like these when you thank your lucky stars and the fact that a little blow opens a large network of friends for a gringo with money to toss around…

All of a sudden that skin picking son of a bitch lunged at Juan and next moment my only amigo in this entire fucking country was bleeding from seven inches across his neck. The guards rushed in knocking the blade out of his hand and began beating the hell out of that mongrel. Not that it was going to do me any good. I stood there watching my way out of here sprawled out next to the shit bucket in a pool of life force.

Now I am fucked. Now I am fucked.


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