Tijuana Travesty Follow Up
One year later - Same Place 
Sacto Ritch chimed in shortly after this article was posted. In an e-mail sent to me he wrote:
Holy crap! That was 15 years ago? Apparently you've got more memory than I do from that night. The only person who would have a clear memory from that night would be our caretaker Matt. In fact I'm afraid of what he does remember. He could be making it sound a lot worse and we wouldn't know. For all we know we stopped in for mass and a few quick prayers. Maybe Matt roundly buggered both of us for putting him through that ordeal. Maybe we got married in Mexico to syphilis infested, stuttering transvestite hookers. Maybe we married each other!
Matt then chimed in after he was forwarded a link to the story:
I do have a few things to add to the story though that you may have forgotten in your drunken stupor.
When we got to Tequila Sunrise, Ritch was sober just enough to start harassing the bartender and betting the cost of a couple of tequila shots that the bartender could not name 3 members of the starting line up of the Pistions. (Ritch probably couldn't at that time either)
When we were walking to towards Customs, this mexican woman for no apparent reason, came up to ritch while he was still being supported by you and I and started yelling at him and slapping him. I remember that you and I both looked at each and wondered what the hell he could have done to deserve that since he was being supported by you and I for the entire trip to customs after leaving the puking TJ Cabbie.
Once you and Ritch woke up after sleeping in the flower bed we decided to make the first attempt at getting on the trolley. While sitting on the bench waiting on the trolley, trolley security walked up and said that you and Ritch were in no state to get on the trolley. For some odd reason, they thought that the rocking and swaying that the trolley does may cause a couple of drunks to change the texture of the floor of the trolley. After you made a vain attempt to tell the officers that you weren't that drunk, you finally just layed down on the bench and passed out.
While I was waiting on you inebriates to sleep it off at least enough to get past trolley security, I found myself apologizing to the horrified passers by for the random noises and occasional technicolor breathing that you and Ritch were doing (yes you joined him in tossing up some TJ hot dogs and beer). People would walk by and I would warn them against the evils of Tequila. Hell, it was my first day in CA after driving through the desert trapped in a non-airconditioned, overstuffed festiva. I had to do something to entertain myself. You guys were just such easy targets.
Also, the worst thing about the whole damn experience for me was that I had maybe, MAYBE 1/3 of what you or Ritch drank and the next morning, I was the one with the fucking hangover and he was bouncing around like he just slept for 10 hours and didn't have a care in the world!!!
The best thing about the whole situation is that no matter what, after that night and after all of the years of my brother beating my ass and exploiting my every weakness, I finally found a weakness in him and it's name is TEQUILA. All you would have to do was open a bottle of tequila accross the room from him and he would some how smell it and immediately turn 2 shades of green.
To which Ritch again responded:
Forgot,or just never knew in the first place? So some woman was beating me senselesser? (Huh. The spell checks thinks that's not a word.)Why were both of you holding me up? Who was holding Jim up? I hope someone lost their job for letting drunk pices of crap like us in this country. We were kicked off the trolley? Why was my watch destroyed? Why is my hair long in one picture and short the next? Did I get in a fight with a deranged vato with a pair of sheep shears? And by the way Matt, I had a hangover for three of the most horrible days of my life. I hadn't seen that shade of green again until New Years Eve 99/00 there lover boy.
Holy cats man! Did you see how young we were? Matt looks like a Michael Jackson wet dream. Underage, just drunk enough on Jesus juice to lose all inhibitions while in a third world country with a bad teenage moustache! And all the hair! Ea gads man, Have I always had the "just this side of serial rapist" look, or was it just a Tj thing?
Good God I miss being that completely pie eyed. Jim, my friend, we must gather our caretaker Matt and do our best as a trio of thirty somethings to re-live that night before some awful disease or life altering situation prohibits us from doing so.
You in Matt?
I know I'm in. I'm a little busy this year, but I think that soon we need the storm clouds to gather together and unleash that kind of fury once more in some God-forsaken Third World hell hole (Mississippi, anyone?).
I know I'll be looking forward to it!
Sacto Ritch chimed in shortly after this article was posted. In an e-mail sent to me he wrote:
Holy crap! That was 15 years ago? Apparently you've got more memory than I do from that night. The only person who would have a clear memory from that night would be our caretaker Matt. In fact I'm afraid of what he does remember. He could be making it sound a lot worse and we wouldn't know. For all we know we stopped in for mass and a few quick prayers. Maybe Matt roundly buggered both of us for putting him through that ordeal. Maybe we got married in Mexico to syphilis infested, stuttering transvestite hookers. Maybe we married each other!
Matt then chimed in after he was forwarded a link to the story:
I do have a few things to add to the story though that you may have forgotten in your drunken stupor.
When we got to Tequila Sunrise, Ritch was sober just enough to start harassing the bartender and betting the cost of a couple of tequila shots that the bartender could not name 3 members of the starting line up of the Pistions. (Ritch probably couldn't at that time either)
When we were walking to towards Customs, this mexican woman for no apparent reason, came up to ritch while he was still being supported by you and I and started yelling at him and slapping him. I remember that you and I both looked at each and wondered what the hell he could have done to deserve that since he was being supported by you and I for the entire trip to customs after leaving the puking TJ Cabbie.
Once you and Ritch woke up after sleeping in the flower bed we decided to make the first attempt at getting on the trolley. While sitting on the bench waiting on the trolley, trolley security walked up and said that you and Ritch were in no state to get on the trolley. For some odd reason, they thought that the rocking and swaying that the trolley does may cause a couple of drunks to change the texture of the floor of the trolley. After you made a vain attempt to tell the officers that you weren't that drunk, you finally just layed down on the bench and passed out.
While I was waiting on you inebriates to sleep it off at least enough to get past trolley security, I found myself apologizing to the horrified passers by for the random noises and occasional technicolor breathing that you and Ritch were doing (yes you joined him in tossing up some TJ hot dogs and beer). People would walk by and I would warn them against the evils of Tequila. Hell, it was my first day in CA after driving through the desert trapped in a non-airconditioned, overstuffed festiva. I had to do something to entertain myself. You guys were just such easy targets.
Also, the worst thing about the whole damn experience for me was that I had maybe, MAYBE 1/3 of what you or Ritch drank and the next morning, I was the one with the fucking hangover and he was bouncing around like he just slept for 10 hours and didn't have a care in the world!!!
The best thing about the whole situation is that no matter what, after that night and after all of the years of my brother beating my ass and exploiting my every weakness, I finally found a weakness in him and it's name is TEQUILA. All you would have to do was open a bottle of tequila accross the room from him and he would some how smell it and immediately turn 2 shades of green.
To which Ritch again responded:
Forgot,or just never knew in the first place? So some woman was beating me senselesser? (Huh. The spell checks thinks that's not a word.)Why were both of you holding me up? Who was holding Jim up? I hope someone lost their job for letting drunk pices of crap like us in this country. We were kicked off the trolley? Why was my watch destroyed? Why is my hair long in one picture and short the next? Did I get in a fight with a deranged vato with a pair of sheep shears? And by the way Matt, I had a hangover for three of the most horrible days of my life. I hadn't seen that shade of green again until New Years Eve 99/00 there lover boy.
Holy cats man! Did you see how young we were? Matt looks like a Michael Jackson wet dream. Underage, just drunk enough on Jesus juice to lose all inhibitions while in a third world country with a bad teenage moustache! And all the hair! Ea gads man, Have I always had the "just this side of serial rapist" look, or was it just a Tj thing?
Good God I miss being that completely pie eyed. Jim, my friend, we must gather our caretaker Matt and do our best as a trio of thirty somethings to re-live that night before some awful disease or life altering situation prohibits us from doing so.
You in Matt?
I know I'm in. I'm a little busy this year, but I think that soon we need the storm clouds to gather together and unleash that kind of fury once more in some God-forsaken Third World hell hole (Mississippi, anyone?).
I know I'll be looking forward to it!
posted by JEP at 7:58 AM
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