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Shot in Mexico
Talbot invited me to Mexico because he was planning to visit a pharmacy. You see, he was coming down with the flu. It was the American version I would guess, but he was looking for an international cure.
The red bus crossed the border and after a short time deposited us through the backdoor of a building that was filled with merchandise of every stripe. Leather boots, belts, buckles, watches, earrings, leather jackets, American junk food: Snickers, Twizzlers, Milky Ways, Nips, Cheetos, and on and on. Merchants tempted us with: “guys, take a look, take a look, guys!”
From that shop we poured out onto Revolucion, Tijuana’s biggest hot spot. And though hours away from Tijuana’s “bread-and-butter” night life, the sidewalks were thick with locals, tourists, and entrepreneurs. But Talbot knew his way thru this gaudy maze of junk jewelry, and brightly painted souvenirs. And I had the good sense to follow along, closely.
We wound our way past strip clubs with their gaudy neon signs, past homeless men and women, and children, the children offering you “chicklets,” you know, the little tile shaped pieces of white gum, in exchange for a bit of coin. We cut thru intermingling odors of shit and seared meats, the cries of merchants and cabbies and pedestrians.
Finally we reached Galeano Street: a sign that read “American Pharmacy.” We stepped into a rather large single room, painted white. It was lined with counters and cupboards, also white, and its walls were lined with mirrors. The counters were filled with numerous boxes, all labeled with typically “pharmaceutical” names.
Talbot, who had grown up in Mexico, stepped forth and flawlessly ordered something called “EucaliptinE” which turned out to be a Eucalyptus extract he swore by. Well, seeing as I’d never heard of a Koala staying home sick with the flu, I figured I’d keep an open mind.
“We got about half an hour, why don’t we grab a couple of tacos?” he said. After a short jaunt across some of the roughest sidewalks I’d ever traveled, we ordered up a couple plates of Tijuana-style street tacos. Small corn tortillas filled with Carne Asada and guacamole. Mouth-watering!
When we got back to the “American Pharmacy” the guy in charge of the shots was ready. Talbot stepped behind the counter and entered a back room with a guy who closely resembled Martin Scorsese. I had to laugh because the pharmacist left the door open a crack and I could see ol’ yellow haired Talbot undoing his belt and lowering his “draws.” I cracked a joke about this when he emerged, which looking back might have been ill-advised, seeing as he knew the way home and I didn’t.
But soon we were boarding that red shuttle bus and heading back to the good ol’ USA.
