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......In a Honky Tonk down in Mexico......(Blues for Jawbreaker)  

backpocket13 50M
1520 posts
5/4/2013 9:48 pm
......In a Honky Tonk down in Mexico......(Blues for Jawbreaker)


-|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- WELCOME TO THE SINNERS CLUB -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|- -|-

- "Well the first time that I saw him,
He was sitting on a piana stool.
I said "Tell me man, When does the fun begin?"
He just winked his eye and said "Man be Cool"
He wore a red bandana, plays a cool piana
In a Honky Tonk down in down in Mexico
He wore a purple sash and a black mustache
In a Honky Tonk down in Mexico."
- The Coasters

A BALLAD IN URGENCY (OR) "JAWBREAKERS LAMENT"

........Well ya see,...Things were Stranger back then,....in that time and place,.....in that Corner of the World......Things were A Lot Different,....I had Fled the East Coast for The West Cost, in an attempt to Out Run a Broken Heart.....When I Finally stopped to look around, I was in San Deigo,.....I made some friends, a couple Enemies, a ton of Acuaintances and Bedded a Slew of wanna be Starlets.....I slept on the beaches, on floors, couches, and in strangers beds for the better part of Two Months. Until I was seized by the Wanderlust again,.......It's a Wicked Affliction to be Sure!......But I've always felt that to stop moving for To Long would Kill You,....like a Shark,....If a Shark stops Moving, it Dies.....I've Always felt much the Same Way.......So one sunny afternoon, ....For no good Reason at All,.....I grabbed only what I could fit in my Fathers Old Army Ruck Sack,....And embracing the Instincts of my Wandering Soul,....I hitched a ride South with a trio of Beat Farmers in a Rusted Out Old Chevrolet pick up truck, taking their crop south to sell in Ensenada,.....They seemed like a couple of Good Old Boys to Me, one even joked with me in broken English........After about an hour and a half we pulled into some sort of Road Side Cafe/Cantina/Store/Hotel,.....The Proprietor sat in an old Caine rocker on the front porch, he was a half breed Mexican Indian and he seemed to not notice us at all,.....it turned out he had been in a Peyote Trance for several days now and was Absolutely Certain that he was Now a Glass of Orange Juice,......So on the porch he sat,......Visiting his dead relatives,.....I got all this from his Nephew,....His name was Juan Carlos,.....But people called him "Carlos the Jackal"......when he was Twenty or So he got Fish Hooked in a Baroom Dust up, and had his left Cheek completely torn off,....This injury left all the teeth on the left side of his face exposed,....So he looked as if he were constantly snarling.......hence "The Jackel".....He was roughly between the age of 55 and 115, depending on how much Mezcal he had drunk the night before.....But despite his Sinister Visage, He was quite the Gracious host, and before we left he pulled me aside, and sold me what looked like Four Sticks of Dynamite rapped in pink tissue and crepe paper streamers,....He advised me to go set it off on the beach,....At this I chucked, " No, No,....My Good Man! I replied,....."One Never knows when a thing such as this Might come in Handy!"........We sat at a big round scared wooden table, a Gallon of Mezcal an four glasses in different states of disarray. The Worm in the half filled bottle was the size of my little finger........

............Two months later, and 285 Miles South of that small nameless roadside tavern, I awoke in a $5 a week room in a Town whose Name I couldn't even Pronounce.......The first thing I did was use the Hotels computer to get more Funds wired down here, and Pronto!.....My Credit is Impeccable!!!........there should be NO PROBLEMS!......At that time of the year, it gets Hot and Steamy early in the day, and stays that way until well passed Sunset. I spent my early mornings wandering around Old Town looking for the Right Cantina in which to drink the day away in.......after about a week it was a Shifty, Greasy Little French , in a Striped Zoot Suit and a Teal Fidora, who after trying to sell me a Pint of Pure Virgins Blood and a couple of milligrams of Pure Human Adrenalin,.......Who finally directed me to an Old House called "Mi Madres".......The place had been in business for over 180 years,.........The Bar was Dark in the afternoon, the Place was Quiet, the Drinks were Cheap, the Food was Good, the old Juke Box was packed with Special Music, and I Enjoyed the Company.

........The Bouncer was an American , with a Linebackers Build, a Big Shock of Black Hair, shaved into a Mohawk, a lazy eye, and a Chip on his Shoulder that Threatened to tip him Over. He openly wore an old revolver on one hip, and a foot long Pig Sticking Filet Knife on the other,( It gave him the look of an old west outlaw, come unstuck in time).....It made me Wonder exactly What A True American Warrior was doing all the way Down Here in Old Mexico...........
..........The First Time that I wondered into " Mi Madres" Jawbreaker was in the middle of Smashing the Teeth out of the Mouth of some Car Salesman from Des Moines..........He was using a white sport sock with a Billiard Ball knotted in the End........
The whole Nightmarishly Chaotic Episode caused me to Stop and Stare.........
Extreme Violence has that Effect on Me,........It's a Purely Suicidal Instinct.......
Smart People will Run,And that is Correct......
But I however have learned Long Ago to Accept My Instincts,......And Trust Them.
Picking up the Half-Dead Car Salesman by his collar and belt hoop, and using his Head to Open the Alley Door, and pitches him out the door and into a pile of Month old Trash Bags,.....the sewer rats scurry a short distance,.....but begin to creep back toward the body before the door even swings shut.
"Sweet Weepin Jesus!!!....Man!!!....That Shit was Fuckin Cold Blooded!.....You Filthy Savage!!!" I Barked at Him.
He turn slowly to see Who Exactly was addressing Him.......And when our eyes met,.....that Lazy Eye of his was staring off at the Far Corner of Nowhere.
......."That Twisted Little Bastard!" He Said " He wanted to Fuck the twelve year old boy that washes the Dishes and Cleans the Bar!" He turned his head and violently Spit on the barroom floor.
The Pure look of Outrage and Disgust that was on his Face was a Scary Thing,......You could Tell how Strongly he Felt about such things, and it made me Instantly Like the Crazy Bastard,.......Which is what made me Say to Him......."Wait!.....Hold On!!!....Just a Fuckin Second!!!...You Mean WE CAN'T Do that Stuff Here?!?!?!"......"Do You At Least Have Goats!?!?" I Yelled.
His Eyes Narrowed,.......He got Real quiet and a Serious look came over his face.........He still held the Sport Sock,.......It swung like a Pendilum at his side,......Dripping blood on the tiled old floor.........
He looked as if he had to Carefully Consider what I had just said,...Before deciding how to React.
I had made it a habit of keeping a long pearl handled switch blade tucked into the back of my cargo pants,.......And my Left hand was Slowly reaching around for it......The Situation was taking an Ominous Turn,......And I Knew it would take a Little more than a Taste of the Long Knuckle to Subdue This Lunatic!!!........."Oh Shit!....Fuck Man!....OhHaHaHahehehehehoheHoHoHahahehahehahehehe...he ..ha" He Laughed Even Laughed like a Lunatic!.......
Satans Bossom!!! Ithought,.....what sort of Asylum have I walked into here!?!?!?!......If they Serve Alcohol,...Well Fuck!!!......Commit My Ass!!!!......I'm Stayin!!
YOU!!!...He Yells, pointing at Me, "You're a Funny Fucker!!!......Oh shit!,....Hey!...Juan?!?!....JUAN!!!........Did You HEAR This Fuckin Guy!?!?.......He's Great!......Sweet Mother of Christ!" He Yells as he throws a meaty arm around my Shoulders and leads me to his private both at the back of the Bar.......
..........Thirty Six Hours, Sixty Two Beers, Eighteen Margaritas, Thirteen Fat Joints, Nine Lines of Bad Cocaine, Six Bowls of Opium, Four Reds, Three Bottles Of Tequila, and the Two Cuban Cigars we were now smoking as we leaned over the parapet looking down into the bustle of Street Life marching ever onward into eternity, four stories bellow.........We passed a near empty Tequila bottle between the two of us, back and forth,......A Pair of lovely young Mexican girls snoored softly in the next room.
We Drank in Silence, listening to the Drone of the City,......They all have it, from New York to Tokyo.
"Hey Jawbreaker," I asked, "What was it that brought you all the way Down here to the Ass End of the World?"
"Same thing as You I Imagin, either Runnin from Somthin, or Chasin Somethin,.......That's Plain as Day." "Alright" I admitt, Guilty as Charged.......What about You, Running or chasing?"
"Runnin" He replied.
"From What,.....If you Don't mind Speaking of it."
"Killin" He responded flatly.
"What?!?!"
"It was Killin brought me down here."
"Jawbreaker," I nervously laughed.
"You heard me correct, Killin folks is what brought me all the way down here." He said nonchalantly.
"What sort of Folks are you Talking About?!?!"
"All kinds." He replied "All over Too,...They weren't Picky,....Mostly just people they Didn't Like I suppose." He mused.
"Hold The Fuckin Fort a Minute Here!!!.......You're Drunk Man!!!....Get a Good Goddamn Grip on Yourself!!!" I Snapped.
"This is True,...I am Drunk,...VERY DRUNK!!!......Drunk Indeed, which is the ONLY Reason I'm Talking the way I Am to You."
I leaned back, resting the back of my chair against the concrete wall,......and propped my Snake Skin Boots up on the old scarred and stained wooden card table,......I leaned back, and looked up at him with Open Curiosity.

"Well," He began, "I was born and raised way up in the mountains of West Virginia,.....Coal Mining or Raising Pot were the Only Viable way to make a livin,....The best two options Really,....And I weren't No Good at Either....We where Always cold and poor and hungry,....And that'll wear on a body also......Dinner was what ever you were lucky enough to Catch........Which was mostly squirrel, rabbit possum or maybe a muskrat if you was lucky,.....Me being the Eldest of the Seven ,...Which is funny,..... My Pop was the Seventh in his Family too.......He started taking me hunting when I was young,.....I remember my Mother crying when we left.....The first thing I killed was a squirrel, shot him right out of his tree,.......My Father said it was 250 yards if it was a Foot.....And by the End of the Day he was claiming that his was "The Best Natural Shot" that He had ever Seen.....I'm sure it impressed the Fuck Out of his Drinking Buddies......Eitherway......At fifteen I bagged a Ten Pointer at Close to Half a Mile, in a cross wind no less. I think He was Proud of that......I sure Know I was."
I stared out into the Fading Nights Neon Nightmares, Doomed Dreams, Fake Fantasies, Cheap Lies, Broken Promiseses, and Shattered Dreams,....I sat there,.....Waiting in Silence,.....Eventually I lit up a joint,.....that seemed to bring him back from wherever his Mind had Led Him. He stared sadly into the Empty Tequila Bottle,... Holding it up to his eye and squinting like a Sea Captain lookin three a Spy Glass, before Over handing it down into the fairly crowded street four stories below, just missing a Thin Mexican in an orange an green paisley Leasure Suit,...He Screems up obscenities in Spanish,......Jawbreaker smiles and runs his Index Finger along his Throat while pointing at the with his other hand......The glares back, but saunters off to ply his Trade else ware.

....."Yeah"...He Started "I joined the United States Marine Corps straight out of the Tenth Grade,....I had already flunked it Twice, and I Didn't See the Point of hangin around there no more....Plus, at least the Marines Feed you regular, and Took care of your health, Gave you a place to Stay, and some Pocket change to Boot!,....Shit,....That sounded a Hell of a Lot Better than Prison,....which I was Smart Enough to Know was in my Near Future. The Marine Corps were a Dream come True!....It didn't take Them long to Realize that they had a Shooter with some Sand already Cut into him.....So off they sent me to Recon training, then Forced Recon Training, Six months of Various Survival and Combat Training courses,......How to Kill six armed men with a Pencil,...That kind of BullShit." He laughed "Then Sniper School my Friend!....They saved the Best for Last.

......After a Pause to drag on the Joint an pop another beer open,....using the edge of the stone parapet....".The Problem that developed was that I Decided I wasn't a Big Fan of Marine Corps Life,....With its chain of command Bullshit, to many Rules and Regulations,...I was about to up an Quit when that Shit in Nicuragua Hit,....Uncle Sam made me a Scout Sniper, gave me a top of the line long range fifty caliber rifle,...and assigned me a Boy Scout from Shit Lick Arkansas,...This had fire red hair and freckles,.......He looked like that Cat Opie from that Green Acres Show!.....Ha ha' what a fuck up this was!........Jesus!,...he'd Fuck up a Wet Dream!....OhHahahaha............He was One Hell of a Spotter though,.....That Mutherfucker didn't Rattle,....not Him,... had ice in his veins that one did!" He was staring up at the ceiling,......a slight gleam in his good eye.
"He was a Good Huh?" I ask, lamely looking around for another warm beer,
"Christ on his Throne!......Eighteen years old this ,and never been out of Arkansas,......I nick named him "Farkle"......Ya Know, from that old "Saturday Night Live" skit,....."The Farkle Family!!!".......They all had Red Hair!?!?!"......You remember that Shit!?!,......Jesus Wept!,....What were you Raised in a Barn?!?!,....Hahahahahahaha..haha....ha.....cough....Cough!......Cough!Cough!Cough!......cough!....cough" He Weezes and Hacks, but Refuses any attempts for aid, or even a pounding on the back..........After a couple of minutes, he sits up, leans back against the wall, and whipes his eyes with the back of his hand,.......Clears his Throat,.....And continues,
........."We killed sixty eight people, all said and done.......sixty eight people, Frarkle and Me.....after he was killed, I just lost the Taste for it. Just plain Refused to do it any more,.....Orders or Not. They Court Martialed Me, and I was Discharged." He said indiferently " So Anyway, there I was, Twenty something years old, with absolutely No training in Anything but killing."
"All I wanted was to be left in peace, on my own terms, out were the Real winds blow!"
........."But then I went and did about the dumbest thing a man can do!"
"What's that?" I reply while rolling up another bone,
.........."I ended up falling in Love with a Mexican Stripper named "Skittles"
"So when she went back home to Old Mexico,.....Naturally I Followed........

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.............TO BE CONCLUDED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER OF "THE DEVILS TALES".......UNTIL THE NEXT TIME DEMONS AND DEBUTANTS, THERE ARE SEVEN DEADLY SINS AND SEVEN DAYS IN THE WEEK, LETS TRY TO BREAK AT LEAST ONE A DAY, THAT'S NOT TO MUCH TO ASK NOW IS IT?
Sinfully Yours backlpocket13

smartasswoman 66F  
35813 posts
5/15/2013 6:53 pm

Man, you are quite the storyteller.


backpocket13 replies on 5/15/2013 10:09 pm:
Dearest Smartasschic,
......I'd Tell you how much I Adore You,....But I Suspect you may Already Know,....My Dear Consigliere, Complements like that from you make me feel like F. Scott Fitzgerald!......And Because I Know that You will take the Time to Read these Longer Ramblings, Rants and Remembrances, Is the Reason I'd Fight Off Heavens Hordes For You!!!!.....Thanks Babe, You're Aces!!!......
Eternally Yours backpocket13

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