our entire trip for your drug habit,” Zack pleaded.
“Fine,” Dave relented, “but if I end up not being able to score later I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You can try,” Zack said with a smile. He and Dave had gotten into it more than once over the years, both playfully and twice out of real anger. And every time Zack had easily overpowered his smaller friend. Dave’s real strength didn’t come from knowing how to handle himself in a fight so much as knowing how to talk his way out of one, hence his need for Zack to bail him out of all the trouble his big mouth had gotten both of them into over the years.
“Here,” Oscar said, handing them each a business card. “If you need anything just call me and I will bring it to you.”
Zack tried to hand his back but Oscar wouldn't take it.
“I don't need one,” Zack insisted. “I don't party.”
“Keep it,” Oscar said with a wink. “In case your friend loses his. Sooner or later everything gets lost or stolen here, even from the resorts. Best to keep your passports and other valuables on you at all times. And whatever happens do not score on the street or the beach. There are undercovers everywhere looking to take advantage of dumb Americans. They’ll sell you an eight ball and then have their partner pick you up and extort every last dime you’ve got on you. I’ve seen it countless times.”
“Trust me I know,” Dave groaned.
“I still can't believe that the cops do that,” Zack said.
“They don't make much,” Oscar explained. “So they have to make it up somewhere and not just with tourists. I get pulled over twice a week and I'm from here. One way or another they get their cut.”
“How is that legal?” Zack asked, perplexed.
“It's just how things work here,” Oscar shrugged. “It's called La Mordida , or the bite. It's become so engrained in our system no one even bothers to complain, except turistas . The Commandante turns a blind eye so long as he gets his cut of the action. Down here he is the law of the land. The only person he answers to is the Governor. Everyone else follows his lead in a 'shit flows downhill' kind of way.”
“What happens if you don’t have more than a few bucks on you?” Zack was hoping he wouldn't have to find out during their stay but he also knew how relentless Dave was. He figured it was better to understand how things worked just in case his friend landed them both in hot water again.
“I’ve heard some of them will take you back to your hotel to search for more,” Oscar said. “Others might just take you out to a deserted stretch of road, kick the shit out of you, and leave you to find your way back home. Then again, there is always the possibility they will leave you to rot in a Mexican jail.”
“That’s all bullshit,” Dave chuckled. “Mexican prisons aren’t all that different from American ones. I got hauled in once in tee-jay.”
“You got taken in to the station,” Oscar corrected. “Prison is much, much worse.”
“So that's not just an old wives tale?” Dave asked.
“I assure you it isn’t,” Oscar said, a knowing look in his eyes. “I spent five years in a super max up in Chicago. One of the toughest places I ever did time. It was a piece of cake compared to the two weeks I did in Sinaloa. At least they feed you in America. Three hots and a cot, even with overcrowding. Not to mention cable TV. Down here you get crammed in a cell with a bucket. If you’re friends and family don’t bring you food you starve. And don’t even think about catching a cold, because by the time they get a doctor to give you a check-up you’ll most likely be dead from whatever made you sick in the first place.”
“What did you do time for in Chicago, if you don’t mind me asking?” Dave shot Zack a look as if to say he’d gone too far.
“It’s cool,” Oscar casually replied, seeing the tense exchange between them. “I don’t mind talking about it. Assault with a deadly
“Fine,” Dave relented, “but if I end up not being able to score later I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You can try,” Zack said with a smile. He and Dave had gotten into it more than once over the years, both playfully and twice out of real anger. And every time Zack had easily overpowered his smaller friend. Dave’s real strength didn’t come from knowing how to handle himself in a fight so much as knowing how to talk his way out of one, hence his need for Zack to bail him out of all the trouble his big mouth had gotten both of them into over the years.
“Here,” Oscar said, handing them each a business card. “If you need anything just call me and I will bring it to you.”
Zack tried to hand his back but Oscar wouldn't take it.
“I don't need one,” Zack insisted. “I don't party.”
“Keep it,” Oscar said with a wink. “In case your friend loses his. Sooner or later everything gets lost or stolen here, even from the resorts. Best to keep your passports and other valuables on you at all times. And whatever happens do not score on the street or the beach. There are undercovers everywhere looking to take advantage of dumb Americans. They’ll sell you an eight ball and then have their partner pick you up and extort every last dime you’ve got on you. I’ve seen it countless times.”
“Trust me I know,” Dave groaned.
“I still can't believe that the cops do that,” Zack said.
“They don't make much,” Oscar explained. “So they have to make it up somewhere and not just with tourists. I get pulled over twice a week and I'm from here. One way or another they get their cut.”
“How is that legal?” Zack asked, perplexed.
“It's just how things work here,” Oscar shrugged. “It's called La Mordida , or the bite. It's become so engrained in our system no one even bothers to complain, except turistas . The Commandante turns a blind eye so long as he gets his cut of the action. Down here he is the law of the land. The only person he answers to is the Governor. Everyone else follows his lead in a 'shit flows downhill' kind of way.”
“What happens if you don’t have more than a few bucks on you?” Zack was hoping he wouldn't have to find out during their stay but he also knew how relentless Dave was. He figured it was better to understand how things worked just in case his friend landed them both in hot water again.
“I’ve heard some of them will take you back to your hotel to search for more,” Oscar said. “Others might just take you out to a deserted stretch of road, kick the shit out of you, and leave you to find your way back home. Then again, there is always the possibility they will leave you to rot in a Mexican jail.”
“That’s all bullshit,” Dave chuckled. “Mexican prisons aren’t all that different from American ones. I got hauled in once in tee-jay.”
“You got taken in to the station,” Oscar corrected. “Prison is much, much worse.”
“So that's not just an old wives tale?” Dave asked.
“I assure you it isn’t,” Oscar said, a knowing look in his eyes. “I spent five years in a super max up in Chicago. One of the toughest places I ever did time. It was a piece of cake compared to the two weeks I did in Sinaloa. At least they feed you in America. Three hots and a cot, even with overcrowding. Not to mention cable TV. Down here you get crammed in a cell with a bucket. If you’re friends and family don’t bring you food you starve. And don’t even think about catching a cold, because by the time they get a doctor to give you a check-up you’ll most likely be dead from whatever made you sick in the first place.”
“What did you do time for in Chicago, if you don’t mind me asking?” Dave shot Zack a look as if to say he’d gone too far.
“It’s cool,” Oscar casually replied, seeing the tense exchange between them. “I don’t mind talking about it. Assault with a deadly
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