Some of you will be receiving the odd piece of mail from me in the near future. You may be puzzled by the postmark and the American stamps.
No, I have not been hanging around Texas inventing all this stuff about Mexico. Here is the deal. I have used the Mexican postal service a couple of times without incident. For me, it was just slow. However, generally it is somewhat of a gamble. Mailings disappear. Hence, the service offered by such enterprises as La Conexión, which I am now using.
One takes their U.S.A. bound mail to La Conexión's offices downtown here. There you put American postage on it and give La Conexión an additional five pesos per letter. La Conexión then hauls the letters up to Texas by truck and mails them in Laredo or some place like that.
A somewhat disappointing Saturday evening. I had seen a poster in the laundromat—yes, I have found a laundromat, but I will explain how that works on another day—I had seen a poster in the laundromat advertising a boxing match along with music at a larger venue on the edge of town called El Alamo. I had never been in El Alamo, and I was in the mood for a boxing match. Fifty pesos and women in free between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m. this evening.
Upon entering the place at around 9:30, I was frisked by security. Of course I had forgotten that I had my knife with me. So that complicated my life. Then when I got in, I found that there was no boxing match. Canceled or something. Just a whole bunch of Mexican kids, really loud, thumping music, and lasers. I was at least thirty-five years older than every other person in there. There was not even any place to sit down. I turned around, picked up my knife where I had to check it, and left.
La Mexicana, who had ridden along with me, got a big laugh out of this.