ALL WHO WANDER ARE NOT LOST. OR ARE THEY?

I wonder if I’m wandering or if I’m lost.  Not all the time, but occasionally. I think I’m doing the next right thing, which leads me to my leaving Guatemala and returning to the U.S. I still don’t know if it was the right decision, but what’s done is done.

I will always love Antigua, Guatemala. It is easily the kindest place I’ve ever been even if it was for only six months. The weather and the scenery was amazing, and that is what drew me to it. But in the end, it was the people that kept me there, and the people are why I will return to live one day.

I accepted a job in Taos, New Mexico with the Public Defender’s Office of New Mexico. I said yes for two reasons. For as much as I loved Antigua, I didn’t really have a support system there. Yes, I knew people there and in time I am sure I would have developed a network of people that I could count on. But, as a man in his 40’s, I kept thinking that if I fell and really hurt myself (I fall a lot) or something else happened health-wise, nobody would find me for days. Steve would end up eating me before someone found me. At least here in the U.S., if I didn’t come to work, people would look for me.

In addition, I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to check out of the legal field yet.  The reality is, if I was going to get back to practicing law, I needed to go ahead and do it. There isn’t much of a market of an over 40 attorney who hasn’t been practicing in awhile.  While I was in Guatemala, I added (limited) Spanish and an Immigration Law certification to my skill set, and I guess the New Mexicans found that attractive, so here I am in Taos. 

I’ve been to Taos before on vacation, but never to live, so it was basically a leap of blind faith. The biggest fear is that Taos would be a mean town like Orange Beach. I lived there for three years, and I met two people that I didn’t already know before I moved there. I mean, I met more, but people whose numbers were in my phone? Two. Not the friendliest of places. So, I’m hoping like crazy that Taos isn’t like that. I know it won’t be friendly like Antigua. I don’t think anywhere is, but I just hope I meet some cool people and fit in better here.

So Taos. I rented a house sight-unseen (picked mostly because it has a hot tub on the roof-I’m nothing if not practical),

My House

packed my stuff from storage in Mobile, bought a car and drove out here last week. So far, I really dig it. It’s a mountain town with skiing and such. I’ve skied but I wouldn’t call myself a skier. A twice broken ankle from soccer probably won’t help matters, but I’m going to take some lessons when the mountains open and see what happens. Also, the weather is amazing right now. 75 in the day, around 45 at night. Nobody has air conditioning. That’s great and all, but it does get in the mid 80’s in the summer, so I’m not sure how I’m going to feel about that. I’m also wary about the cold and the snow. I don’t mind the cold but I have no idea how to drive in the snow. So I’ll probably die of some hilarious snow driving episode.

Everything’s adobe. Everything. So I wander around saying “a-do-be” a lot. This won’t mean much to you if you aren’t a Pee Wee Herman fan, but I crack myself up. Georgia O’Keefe and some other famous artists lived here, so there are galleries and artists everywhere.

Like, every other storefront is a gallery. And there are a lot of people who think they are artists, but aren’t.

The rain is weird and the sky is weird. Rain just feels different, and I don’t know how to describe it. You know how rain in the South feels like it’s coming from the sky? Here it feels like it formed a few feet above you. It’s softer, and the drops are bigger. You have to feel it to understand. And the sky feels like it’s lower, like it’s right on top of you.

Next time, I’ll have done some exploring and can give you some pics around town. So far, I’ve been trying to set up utilities and what not, so I haven’t had a lot of time to get out and about.

So, I’m here in Taos and all are welcome as usual. If you like to ski, I am 15 minutes from a world-class mountain. 

Taos Ski Valey

If you like to drink beer, we have some pretty neat breweries (4 drink maximum is on the sign, which will never not make me laugh). If you fish or raft, the Rio Grande is 5 minutes away with some great fly action
and rapids. I haven’t had the chance to check all of this stuff out yet, but I’m excited about the adventure.

Rio Grande Gorge

HOPE THE HIGH ROAD.

First things first. If you haven't listened to the first single from the new Jason Isbell album, well here it is. Without going into excruciating detail, it says alot about where I am and where I am not right now. Most of y'all know my politics and my neverending devotion to all things Isbell, so I'll leave it at that.

So here I am in Antigua, Guatemala, and I am getting comfortable. Things that terrified me when I got here on November 3rd (the day after the Chicago Cubs won the World Series...because that is a thing that happened. Don't forget that), I do now. Part of it is becoming more relaxed about the Spanish language problem. I've had enough school that I can comfortably get around, but for awhile I was scared to speak, thinking I would get it wrong and people would make fun of me. That's sort of a theme in all aspects of my life, but for some reason I don't care anymore, at least about the Spanish part. If it's wrong, it's wrong, and I tried. I've found that generally people are willing to help and usually they understand well enough.

With that said, I'm venturing out of my comfort zone. The first big step was getting a Guatemalan phone. I cannot describe the terror of walking into the Claro office, taking a number, and hoping like hell I could explain to the dude that I needed a SIM card. As it turns out, it was painless. 

So now I'm thinking of moving, and the reason is completely ridiculous. Yes, it's Steve. As some of you know, he has a barking issue when I'm not here. People have stopped complaining, so maybe he's better, I don't know.  Either way, this place has paper thin walls (though they're made of stone so I dunno) and an option has become available. The little house in a compound where a friend lives is available, and I'm probably going to take it. It's a little bit out of town, but my friend has dogs for Steve to play with, so I won't feel as bad about leaving him. It'll allow me to get out more and see more of  the town that I moved to. As it is now, I'm pretty hesitant about leaving for more than 3 hours or so with Steve in his crate. 

With this comes the need for a car because it's about 15 minutes outside of town. I've wanted one for awhile because a scooter really limits you, and whomever convinced me to buy as scooter and not a car in the first place can kiss my ass. For example, there's only one grocery store in Antigua proper and it suuuucks. (why that is, I don't know) But there are some great stores outside of town in San Lucas or in Guatemala City. However, you need more than a scooter to get there and to haul your stuff back. So I'm going to look at a Jeep on Friday. Completely practical? Maybe not, but when the weather is perfect year-round and you drive on cobblestone streets, the open air and knobby tires are appealing. Downside, it's a stick...I haven't driven a stick since high school. So, maybe it's like riding a bike or maybe I'm going to make a complete fool of myself. Total crapshoot. I tried to upload an image, but apparently I'm too dumb so anyway, it's black like my heart. 

St. Patrick's Day has come and gone, and I was woefully overserved. As it turns out, the Jamey Girls

are an international phenomenon, and I totally blame them. I went to The Snug (surprise), which had opened at 6 am. 6. In the daytime. Whatever, some folks are bolder souls than I. There was Irish music, Irish people, and one Irish flutist who was about the most attractive human that I've ever laid eyes on in my 40+ years of circling the sun. As day faded to night the crowd rendered the tiny bar into a sweatbox, and I became increasingly aware that I was not fit for public, I wandered the streets of Antigua and rediscovered some of the reasons I moved here. The place is visually stunning. Central American light is different than in the States. I don't know why that is, but it is.

Semana Santa, or the leadup to it, has begun. What I thought would be sort of like Mardi Gras....is nothing like Mardi Gras. Nobody throws anything, the marching bands don't play funk and it's really reverent. Everything in bars stops when the procession comes by out of respect. Nobody's hollering "throw me something mister," there's not a moon pie in sight, and I suppose showing tits would really be frowned upon. Who knew? And there was one bro in a red Klan hat, which gave me pause. Even my British friends were like, "yeah, that's not a good look dude."

It's not bad yet, but I'm told that during the actual Holy Week, Antigua is pretty much not navigable by humans. It's apparently the largest celebration in the western hemisphere. Some of  y'all know my feelings on crowds, so it looks like I'll be stocking up on food and liquor and hunker down in the casa like some sort of survivalist in Montana. 

"Wherever you are, I hope the high road leads you home again..to a world you want to live in..." -Jason Isbell

This might be mine. 

Adios for now. 

CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. IS THIS HOME?

Got a Guatemalan phone, so I guess that means I'm in it for the long haul. That was my intent when I came here, but my mood changes with the day. And yesterday was Mardi Gras Day, and I just wanted to go home. It didn't last; I'm over it today, but there's nothing in Antigua for Mardi Gras. At all. It's a Catholic country, so it's weird no? So I got to thinking, in this town of charitable contributions, maybe I could throw together a Mardi Gras Ball for some group. I dunno. It would be something to occupy my time. The most important thing, as everyone knows, would be finding a band that knows Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music." There's this old Cathedral, San Jose el Viejo, that I pass every day that I'm obsessed with. Maybe there. It looks like this.

And this...

Yeah, this town is pretty stunning. 

Anyway, it's an idea. Speaking of charity event, last week was big on that. First, there was boxing, which was a damn blast. Several local bartenders and other notables took to the ring to benefit Los Ninos Guatemala. My friend Laurie, who owns The Snug, who I have spoken about before, got involved. Then, a few days later there was mechanical bull riding at Monoloco and my friend Kike lasted the proper 8 seconds. So it was a cool week for a good cause. 

One of the weird upsides about living in Antigua is the ready availability of new release movies on CD. In the past week, I've watched LaLa Land and Moonlight 

and apparently neither are available in the States. Oh, that they're 10Q, which is about $1.50. So kinda cool. I feel bad about buying bootleg art sometimes, but we don't have a theater here (in a town of 40,000 people, which is odd but Guatemala so who knows), and I don't have a car to go to Guate City, so we do what we can. And really, 10Q is a boatload of money for the kids who sell them on the street. I worried that the quality would suck but so far, they've all been perfect. So, score.
'
Semana Santa has begun. It's a very big deal here. Similar to Mardi Gras from all accounts but I think they take the Jesus part alot more seriously. One of the things I'm most excited about seeing during Semana Santa are the alfombras. Alfombras are these "rugs" that are made from all natural materials, dyed sawdust, fruits and vegetables etc. They're all over town until a parade comes through it and poof, it is destroyed, just like that.

The parades here are different than what we're used to also. You know how the floats are hauled by jeeps or trucks in Mobile and New Orleans. We're pussies. 

So I'm excited about it. But apparently in brings in hundreds of thousands of folks into town and me, I'm not about a crowd, so I'll probably go into town and check it out for a day or two then ride it out here at the house with Steve. Because I'm sure there will be fireworks. There are always fireworks in this damn town, and nothing scares Steve more. SPEAKING OF STEVE: he may have stopped howling in his crate when I leave. But then, I'm gone, so who really knows? But, I load up his Kong with food and cream cheese and slather a rawhide with peanut butter, and it occupies him. He used to bark as soon as I leave the house but now he doesn't. So progress? We'll see. 

That's the end of this session, my good people. As always, y'all stay cool and you are missed. Come see me, why don'tcha?

LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN

Okay, so that last post wasn't received as intended. Things aren't bad; they're actually good. However, this isn't a travel blog, and I'm not going to shoot sunshine up your asses all the time. Like everywhere, there's good and bad here in Guatemala, and last week was not my best week. This one is better.

First, Adventures with Steve. So, we had a consultation with a dog whisperer here in town. If you've been playing along, Steve has a barking issue when I'm gone, and he remains terrified of everything. So, we're trying to get him not to be that way. She confirmed what I guess everyone who has met Steve already knew: he was definitely abused pretty badly before I got him. The weird thing is his reaction when anyone or anything foreign is introduced into his environment, whether it's a person, a box, whatever, he becomes an entirely different dog. Naturally, when the whisperer was here, he was afraid of me, leading her to tell me that he has all the signs of my beating him. So that went over well. But, I get it. He's just an odd dog, but a great one when it's just us but I can't be here all the time and I refuse to be held captive in my own house because I can't leave my dog alone. So, we're trying a few things. Will report back.

That said, he's getting better at being in town, as you can see here.

He's found The Snug to be his go-to spot, and especially likes the peanuts on the bar.

Speaking of peanuts....Let's talk about food.

I grew up in Alabama, and while my parents were middle class by anyone's definition, my grandparents grew up dirt poor. So, my mom's cooking was influenced by her mother's, so I grew up eating alot of "poor people's food." If you're from rural Alabama, you know what I'm talking about. If not, it's stuff you can grow in the garden or that's really cheap to make. Which brings me to Guatemala. It's the same situation here: folks are poor for the most part and tend to do the same. The weird thing is that there's not much overlap in the way it's cooked. Here's my example of what I made today. Pastalaya with fresh veggies and some fried green tomatoes.

Probably cost me $5 and I will have pastalaya for days. Folks in Guatemala would never make that though. They would use the same $5 and grill fresh pork with black beans and rice. Both are good, but it's interesting to me how culture influences food for similar socioeconomic groups.

A friend shaved her head for money two nights ago. So my friend Grace, who has a magical voice--you should really hear her, up and got drunk and shaved her head at the bar the other night. But there's a reason. Other friends are in a challenge to raise money for Las Ninas de Guatemala, a charity that benefits Guatemalan children. Grace promised to shave her head if folks in the bar raised Q3000 -about $400 USD. Well, 10 minutes later, the hat will brimming with Quetzales and the hair came off. Anyway, Grace had to play the next night and rocked the house in a red wig. She added Dionne Warwick's "I Say a Little Prayer" to her repertoire and I really wished I had a pair of lobster claws to wave in appreciation. If you get that reference, you're good people. A quick note about going out in Antigua. So many different languages and accents in the same place, but somehow it works. Austrian dudes, Australian girls, and the Dutch. So many Dutch. Dutch everywhere.

Today was interesting. Or at least I thought it was. I made my usual Sunday trip to Caoba Farms, where the people didn't understand why I was buying the green tomatoes instead of the ripe red ones. See above. Anyway, I had an interesting chat with a girl who is in town with Habitat for Humanity. First, I didn't know there was Habitat in Guatemala, but there is, so that's something I want to look into. Anyway, we were talking about how Guatemalans don't really value their own products. Everything local is ridiculously cheap here, but anything imported is insanely expensive. There's a store that basically brings in the U.S. Goodwill rejects and sells them at an absurd price because they're American products, and because they're American, people will buy them no matter how bad the quality. Meanwhile, the Guatemalan stuff is of great quality but nobody wants it because if it's Guatemalan, it must suck. I argued that Americans do the same in some respects. We buy Japanese televisions and cars because we assume the quality is superior. It sort of morphed into a chat about the President and trying to force companies to make things in the U.S. I understand both sides of that argument, and I come down on the side of free trade, but we agreed that if we really want to #MAGA, we need to value and buy stuff made locally, whatever your country may be. Anyway, something to chew on, and it's cool to live in a place where it's not in the least bit strange to talk about political and social issues with a total stranger over a grilled fish sandwich. Something else, today's required reading is La Cuadra Magazine. Hard copy is printed right here in Antigua but you can read it online right there at the link, and it's chock full of libtard prose and a little bit of poetry. Good stuff.

Oh yeah, Dispatch has a new record coming out and ya boy is hype. That has nothing to do with Guatemala, but quite relevant to my life.

Anyway, gang, that's it for now. I still miss Alabama, I still miss you, and I always will

SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?

Gang, I'm at a crossroads. I'm also drunk, but that's not really the story here. But first, a musical interlude of some importance.

The story is whether I stay here or not. First, the pros:

I have three business ideas that everyone consulted in town believes would be successful so I can make money here. Really, the opportunity seems endless.

 Steve is incredibly happy, and if you have a dog then you know that making him or her happy is half the battle. Here he is in a tuk tuk...

sort of a three wheeled deal that will take you anywhere around town for Q20 ($2.50). He also enjoys posting up at the bar.

This town, if it was in America...you wouldn't be able to buy a house for less that 800K. I rent with everything, literally everything, included, for $600.

Let's get into the cost of living because you are going to laugh your ass off. Outside of housing, it's hilarious. The bar I just left offers a Brahva beer (not the best, but you won't choke) for Q15. That's less than $2 USD. You can add a shot for Q7. That's less than a dollar. You can absolutely spend American money here if you want to, but you're dumb if you do. So many spots where you can grab lunch for Q20 (less than $3). The Mercado

(market) runs on Monday, Thursday & Saturday, and there you can get literally anything you want for cents on the dollar. 10 apples? $.20, pound of shrimp? buck a pound at the most.

Everyone is very nice. Except, as usual, the only folks I know are from bars. This seems like a familiar refrain. Go to bars thinking I'll meet folks I want to hang out with, and I do, but the hanging out part never happens. There must be a different way to meet people, but I don't know what it is. Also, I enjoy crippling social anxiety so I need the lubricant. Granted, I've only been here 3 months, but my soul is not patient. That turned into a con, but I didn't mean it to be.

So let's move onto the cons, why don't we?

These business ideas? I can't do them by myself. Financially, I can, but I need at least somebody who could help me. It's too much. Sorta reached out to some pals who might know of somebody who'd want to help but I really don't have any takers.

Ya boy ain't getting any younger. I had a series of mishaps lately that got me to thinking. Both of these mishaps could have been much worse. If I'd broken my leg, who do I call? (randos on twitter: "call me!" groovy, how you getting me to the hospital?) Being alone in a foreign land presents issues, is what I am saying.

Neutral issues: I've considered moving. Steve barks when I leave him. Not all the time, but for about 20 minutes and I'm terrified of offending the neighbors and upsetting the landlord. Also, I want to bring my saxophone from home. There's the opportunity to play some here, but I'd need to work on it a bit before that happens. But I can't really do that with neighbors. Granted, they let their kids sit out on the balcony and scream all day, but I try not to be rude. We're having a session with the local dog whisperer Saturday to address his social anxiety, but it's extreme, so I dunno.

I'm taking this Immigration Law class, and it's alot more interesting than I thought it would ever be. As some of you know, I've done alot of criminal defense work but I kind of feel like I've done it all. There's just so many ways that a client can rob somebody. And once you've done multiple Capital cases, you've hit the mountaintop in criminal defense in terms of complex litigation. So if I'm to ever practice law again, I need a change. Immigration removal defense is like criminal defense, but different. You're still fighting for the folks who need it the most though, which is what I like doing. And in the Pendejo Administration, there's immigration law is changing every day. So that's appealing. I've pursued a couple of avenues, but we'll see if it works out. I don't know.

That's where I am today. Tomorrow may be different. Cheers to you and yours.

All That and a Bag of Chips. So Many Chips. And One Pendejo.

The election happened. Boy howdy did it happen.

..which leads me to this. A little Antigua, Guatemalan bar called Cafe No Se, perhaps you've heard of it, began a little booze operation that involves smuggling and whatnot called  Ilegal Mezcal. One day, John Rexer, the bar's owner, had his Mexican waiter in New York tell him him, "Donald eres un Pendejo."

Rexer took the sentiment and ran with it. You can now find tees and whatnot on their website and it was on the sides of buildings in New York. Anyway, it's a thing. You can read the whole cool story here. "Pendejo" is "asshole"in Spanish, if you didn't know.

So anyway, speaking of the asshole getting elected, I'm now in something of a predicament. On the one hand, I like it here. I think I
will grow to love it here. I need to find the right apartment (this one is fine, but sometimes you just know that a place is not your permanent digs and that is the case), and something to do with my time (I have a cool little gig at a NGO, but they don't need me that much) besides hang out with my dog and drink cheap beers at bars. No seriously, you have no idea how cheap this town is, but that's a story for another day.

On the other hand, I feel like this election was a call to arms for libtards like me. [Aside: folks call me "liberal," I tend to think I'm just pragmatic. But yeah, I'm not a fan of racism, sexism and I do think that government can improve people's lives sometimes. If that makes me a liberal, well, Roll Tide.] I don't think I can sit on the sidelines anymore; the consequences of this election made that crystal clear. With the midterm elections coming in 2018, and the House of Representatives being within reach for Democrats, I want to be involved, and that would necessarily involve my leaving here.

So I don't know. Right now, it's early and I'm keeping my options open. But if you know any competitive HOR races where the Democrat needs help, holler. Must like dogs.

What else? Tiendas. Let's talk about tiendas. They're these little convenience stores, hundreds of them all over town, often 2 to a block. The idea sounds great, right? Yeah, it is if your shopping list involves picking up 200 different kinds of chips.

Guatemalans are really, really into snacks. But if you want a bag of dog food, milk and bread, you have to haul ass halfway across town to the Bodegona, the supermarket. There's only one. A town of 40,000 people and only one supermarket. Imagine how pleasantly crowded that is. Now triple it. That's the Bodegona. So, I toss around the idea of opening my own tienda. There isn't one on my end of town, and the south end of Antigua contains alot of expats, who probably also would like a convenient place to buy dog food, milk and bread. So it's an idea. Who knows.

The other idea that I'm sort of serious about is beer/liquor delivery service. Sometimes I don't want to go out, but I would like a couple beers or maybe a bottle of wine. Being lazy and only driving a scooter, I don't want to schlep to a tienda to grab beers. There have to be other partners in lazy who would like their booze delivered to them. In addition, we're very touristy so there's a ton of  hotels & AirBnB type places in town. You'd think those folks would like to pre-order their booze so it will be at their place when they arrive. If you've ever been through the Guatemala City airport, you know that everyone needs a drink as soon as possible after that calamity. Finally, alot of folks seem to think Antigua isn't safe at night (it's completely safe), so they stay in. I'm sure they'd be into having a delivery service. And if you think I'm above preying on folks' fears to make a buck, then you don't know me at all.

So, I'm basically abuzz with business ideas.

Spanish class: I can talk fine but I can't understand. So basically, I have alot of conversations in Spanish with myself, and I tell Steve to "vamos" alot. I've watched alot of Spanish CNN, and they speak slower than regular Joes, or Joses I guess, and it's starting to click. U.S. Football broadcasts help too. I can understand what they are saying most of the time from the action on the field. I've also enrolled in an online Immigration Law class through George Washington Univ. If I ever return to the U.S. it would be put to good use under the current pendejo administration. And if I don't, there are a few organizations down here that deal with human trafficking and refugees that I'd like to get more involved with, and U.S. Immigration law plays an important role there.

Reminder that Semana Santa, Holy Week (Easter), is apparently a madhouse here, and so far the guest room is empty. I'd love to see your smiling face. Unless you're a weirdo. Don't come if you're a weirdo. You know who you are.

Adios, mis amigos. Hasta luego.

The Payoffs and the Ripoffs and the Things Nobody Saw

So baby, here's your ticket Put the suitcase in your hand Here's a little money now Do it just the way we planned You be cool for twenty hours And I'll pay you twenty grand

There's a seedy underbelly to this town, and it's part of the reason I moved here. I'm far from an outlaw; I went to private school ffs, But there has always been something appealing to me about the pirate life, living a step ahead of the law, defying convention. It's here in spades, but you have to look for it. The powers that be have crafted a veneer of a picture-perfect UNESCO World Heritage Site 1500's town. And it can be that, if you want it to be. But there's more, and tonight I found a little bit of it. 

The sailors and pilots The soldiers and the law The pay offs and the rip offs the things nobody saw No matter if it's heroin, cocaine, or hash You've got to carry weapons Cause you always carry cash

"So this fella in Belize paid us $5K to move these bales of weed from Belize to Florida, and I was 24 with nothing else to do so what the hell," was how the story started. I'm at my go-to bar, The Snug, and this 50ish  fella rolls in looking every bit the part of a midwestern stockbroker on vacation. Unless he was full of shit, and most people here are, this cat has lived a life. So he and his buddy "acquire' a sailboat, stow the weed below, and begin their venture. Sadly, they encountered a hurricane. At this point, their options were limited, and discussions were had. 2-5 years was the generally accepted sentence for drug running in those days, so they accepted their fate and radioed the US Coast Guard. 'It was that or die, man." Coast Guard shows up and never board the boat and towed our heroes to Corpus. I didn't ask what happened with the weed, which upon reflection seems relevant. 

There's lots of shady characters and lots of dirty deals Every name's an alias in case somebody squeals It's the lure of easy money, it's got a very strong appeal

A love story. No, really. "I was detained in JFK the day I met my wife and future mother of my children." This guy, a different guy, had been illegally living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for awhile, completely illegally. He's Northern Irish, but Catholic (aside: the violence continues there. He was home for a month, and there were seven bombings. It's not reported because people like to believe it's solved. It isn't.). He and a woman he'd never met had been chatting online and sparks flew. He was going to Burning Man, but they had plans to meet up when he returned. He returned, but was detained by immigration. After the necessary interrogation, he was handed his passport and told to wait in a room for the police who were going to take him to jail for deportation. Our guy jiggled the knob, and it was open. He kept walking. Nobody stopped him until he saw a Yellow Cab, got in and left. He got home and had some drinks, as one would, and messaged his girl. They met for a drink. Unfortunately, the day's earlier cocktails proved to be a truth serum. He revealed that he enjoyed his cocktails, his weed, the occasional line of blow and was currently on the run from the law. But he was around 40 years old and was ready to settle down.

This gal grabbed her shit and ran for the train. 

Well, fortunately, our friend chased her down and told her that despite all that, he felt that they could make a go of it. She offered the cheek kiss goodbye, but he went in for the kill. A 10 minute makeout later on a train platform, she told him to call her tomorrow. 

He did. They are married with 2 kids and live in Antigua, Guatemala. 

It's a cool place, gang. I can't wait for more. 

Perhaps you'd understand it better standing in my shoes It's the ultimate enticement It's the smuggler's blues

Smuggler's Blues: Glenn Frey (still a goddamn jam)