Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Cancun Letters #9

Letter #9

Monday March 5, 2007

Dear Marissa,

Well, I honestly thought I’d be in Cancun by now. Hell, it’s just four little bullet holes and this is a fishing village. You’d have thought someone could have patched us up with bubble gum, or silly putty, or pitch from a boat-repairing-tree, or something like that. But no, everyone is off worshiping the god-of-small-fishing-villages, or some such.

There is a bit of good news from here. I managed to fix the bilge pump with a piece of bicycle inner tube and a coat hanger. How was I supposed to know it was a good bicycle tube? In fact, “good” is an understatement, because I had to give the headman’s son $6.48 for it.

Think about that. Do you remember when I bought Willie Webb’s old Schwinn for $ 5.00? Now I’m paying $6.48 for just a bicycle inner tube. That is highway robbery. Well, to be totally fair, Willie wanted a beer so bad the day I bought his bike, I could have probably got it for the price of a tall Budweiser.

Anyway, I paid for the tube and fixed the bilge pump. It’s not as good as new, but it wasn’t as good as new when I shot it. Now it is back to its previous worn-out state, which isn’t good enough to pump out all the water that will come in through four bullet holes. That means we are going to have to hang around here until the god-of-small-fishing-villages festival and pie eating contest is over. There are different versions of when that might be, but it seems that the majority is leaning toward the day after tomorrow.

In any case, if you aren’t using Manuel and his ox cart, could you find out if he is interested in coming here and taking me to Cancun. I’m not sure Win Win wants to leave. It seems the headman’s daughter, the sister of the bicycle inner tube tycoon, has taken a shine to him, and I suspect they’ve been shinning together out behind the community meeting pavilion. It’s either love or something that will keep their attention until love comes along.

OK, I’ve got to run. I see Pablo, the local mailman, at least I hope he’s a mailman, on the way over to get this letter and my $2.00 stamp fee.

Don’t give up Marissa. I’m still on the way to help you.