Right, so the night before I say,
"We should take the ten o'clock bus so we can have plenty of time to do our stuff before lunch."
Of course that was the kiss of death to any plans that I make. It is like saying to C, "Why don't you find a series of ways to make us lose as much time as possible and get terribly confused at the same time?"
CUT TO:
INTERIOR, OUR BEDROOM, NEXT MORNING
(I am sleeping peacefully, dreaming of chasing a blond down the beach in Biarritz, and just as about I am to catch her...a scream!)
"Oh, my God! Look at my feet!" said C.
"Whaaaaa? Whasss...uh, where's the blon...uh... I mean whazamatter?"
"Look at my feet! They're alike balloons!
"Well, yeah, they do look a bit out of shape there..."
"Out of shape? They look like those tamales they sell here.
Indeed they did. So, I suggested,
"Look, we'll stop by to see the doctor on the way to the bus station. I'm sure he'll give you something for them, check your blood pressure, or whatever and then we can go on to the bus station 'cause I do have to get to San Miguel to pay my credit cards. What time is it?"
"Nine o'clock," she said.
"OK, we'll take a shower and go see that pill pusher."
Shower we did and then we walked to the clinic which is only a couple of blocks away from our house in Dolores. The doctor made us wait a half-hour so by the time he asked us into his consulting room, it was already 10:30.
The doctor took her blood pressure, looked at her feet, looked at the pills she usually takes for her blood pressure and said,
"You're retaining too much water. I am going to give you some pills that will help you eliminate it. I will also ask you to reduce your blood pressure medicine by half."
Lighter by 200 pesos and 600 pesos for the medicine he prescribed, we walked out of the clinic. I said,
"OK, off to the bus station."
"No," said C, "I have to go back home."
"Why?" I asked.
"I just can't go away like that. I have to go back home to see if there is anything I have forgotten."
"Look," I said, "we're not going off to the North Pole. It is just to San Miguel, which is only a half hour away. Can't you just think HERE and see if you have not forgotten something?"
"No," she said adamantly, "I have to go back home."
Off she went. I bought a paper and sat in the plaza to wait for her. By 11:30 I was still reading the paper, so I decided to go and see what was keeping her. I met her half way to the house. I said,
"So, did you forget something?"
"No," she said,
"But, I did," I said testily. "I forgot my credit cards." Back we went to the house to fetch them.
By the time we got to the bus station, it was 11:50. We took the 12:00 o'clock bus to San Miguel. Now, you have to understand that there are only 17 kilometers between Dolores and San Miguel, but these buses make a stop to pick up people or let people get off every one or two kilometers. So, a trip that should take 15 to 20 minutes usually takes 30 to 40 minutes.
We had only traveled about 4 kilometers and the bus had made its first stop to pick up people when disaster struck: the bus ran out of hydraulic pressure, i.e. no brakes and no gear shifting.
There we were in the middle of the desert with cars whizzing by and the bus driver trying desperately to fix the hydraulic pump. Now, if you remember, C had been given pills to help her rid herself of excess water.
All of us passengers had descended from the bus and we were hoping that another bus would come by so we could take that when C said,
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"C," I said, "we're in the middle of nowhere here...no wait, there's a police station over there. Maybe they have a bathroom you can use."
Off she went. The bus driver was hard at work and the buses that stopped for us would not honor our tickets so the bus driver said that we would have to wait for his bus company car to come, which would be in 40 minutes, and that that bus would take us to San Miguel.
I turned around just in time to see C come out of the police station and head south! Where is she going, I wondered.
Ten minutes later, the bus driver announced success! He had managed to get the pump running and now we can leave.
"Wait," I said to the bus driver, "my wife went to the bath room. I have to go fetch her."
I ran toward the police station, passed it, and saw there there was a gasoline station with a convenience store near-by. There was a large sign saying "W. C.", so I imagined that that was where C was.
I ran into the convenience store and yelled "C! C! the bus is leaving, come out!" The store manager came toward me with a face of fear. He must have thought I was mad or something. I said,
"I am looking for my wife. Is there a short blond woman in there?"
"No, no hay nadie, señor," he said.
Back I ran to the bus and guess who was standing by the bus door waving at me? C!
How she got past me, I will never know. The bus driver was threatening to leave without us and the bus was already moving. I jumped on and off we went.
"Where the hell were you?" I said,
"I went to the bathroom," she answered calmly.
"Where? I saw you leave the police station, so I figured they had no bath room."
"Well, the policemen said that their bathroom was not fit to be used by a lady so they told me to go to the convenience store. I did."
"But, but, I went there, and yelled and looked for you. How could you come back without me seeing you?"
"I don't know," she said. "Poor darling, they wanted to leave you but I stood firm and said no. Look I will treat you to lunch in San Miguel. I will pay for a nice drink too at Hank's."
The further 30 or so minutes it took to get to San Miguel passed without mishaps, and with the usual bevy of stops to pick up people.
Once in San Miguel, we took a taxi. It was now past 13:00 hours or 1:00 PM to you non military. The bank closes at 15:00 hours or 3:00 PM on Wednesdays so we had t hurry.
The taxi left us three blocks from the bank. "This is as far as I can take you," said the driver. "The streets around the plaza are closed today for a festival."
We hopped off and hurried along the uphill street. We got to the bank on time, I took out some money from the ATM and went to the first open window to pay my cards.
"Well," I said happy that in spite of all the troubles we had made it in time to the bank, "now let us repair to Hank's for a well deserved round of drinks and a hearty meal. It is 2:30 and I am starving. So, if you withdraw some money from the ATM, C, we will be on our way to that hospitable hostelry."
"Uh, I can't," said C.
"Pray tell, why not?"
"I forgot my credit card at home."
"You, YOU, YOUUU," my jugular vain was about to pop so I had to contain myself. "But, but, you went back home just for that purpose; you went back to check that you had forgotten nothing!"
"I thought I had it in my bag but I don't. I usually...."
"Never mind," I said. "Since I cannot withdraw money anymore, having reached the limit for the day, I will have to pay with my recently paid up credit card."
We had a great meal. Shrimp cocktails, trout in blackened butter, grilled fresh salmon, little crab cakes in lemon oil, and a bottle of chilled white wine from L. A. Cetto's cave.
As we exited Hank's C said, "Let's go to the library."
"The library?" quoth I. "I am ready for a spell in the arms of Morpheus."
"Oh, come on..." And off we went to that repository of culture.
The public library of San Miguel turned out to be a very pleasant place, with courtyards, individual conference rooms and book shelves all over. I found that it also had a very nice cafe where I parked myself in a comfortable chair to finish that dream about the blond.
Well, uneasy rests the head of a guy who hangs around with C because just as I was reaching for the blond, C woke me up.
"Come quick," she urged. "There is a conference on the history of San Miguel just about to start."
I stumbled over to the room where a skinny intellectual was holding forth in English. I went to the back of the room (just as I used to do in High School) so I could continue the chase of the blond nymph, but after about five minutes the skinny, bearded intellectual said,
"OK, so follow me," and exaunt all...except me. C said, "Aren't you coming?"
"You guessed right, I aren't coming," I said.
But she badgered me and I followed. After a couple of blocks, the skinny intellectual stopped and said, "Here's a nice photo op," and he pointed to a church.
"That's it for me," said I. "That damned skinny intellectual is really nothing but a glorified tourist guide. I am so out of here. See you at the cafe."
She went off with the herd.
I went back to the conference room cum library and slept midst the smell of books. They have always had that effect on me. When I woke, I went to the cafe and had a couple of cappuccinos. After a while, I saw the skinny intellectual coming back trailing the small herd he had trotted out with just a couple of hours before. But, Alas, C was not among the troop.
"Hmm," said I but was not disquieted. She has the knack of going off in different directions when one least expects it. When we are in a supermarket I have to keep a wary eye on her because as soon as I turn around, she disappears and it takes me half an hour to find her.
So, I sat there watching all the ex-pats from Canada and the US wander in and out of the cafe. About an hour later, C walked in.
"What happened," I queried. "Did you ditch the photo ops, too?"
"No!" she said. "I was following along and we went into a church and the guy was saying something about the history of the church and I went off to take a picture and when I came back, they were gone! I went outside to look for them and could not find them."
"And then you got lost."
"Yes, she confirmed. I had no idea where I was. I was lost."
"OK, C. Enough excitement for one day. Lets go buy our booze and go home."
Monday I travel to Monterrey to do battle with the pension people.
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