I take a forty-five-minute bus ride from near the beginning of the “R12” route to Old Town and have time to gaze out the windows at the businesses, and people as they go about their daily lives. I view sheep, a horse, and chickens on the road in the early portion of my journey, and then a stretch of highway where there are cattle penned up and chickens running about before entering the local colonias where the drivers maneuver the bus with great dexterity past parked vehicles, taco stands, topes, and on Mondays, a street market.
If you do not like running the A/C all day, you quickly realize FANS are your new best friend (BFF). Our current casa has no ceiling fans (WTF?), so we decided to buy another one to complement our existing two. Walmart, 350 pesos, carried it home on the bus. While it is a good fan and ok, we both wanted more than ok, we also wanted to be able to hear the TV.
I had noticed, while on the bus, a small shop on Peru Ave, as the bus enters the cobblestone streets in the 5 De Diciembre area, which sold fans that looked rugged and more durable than the Walmart special. I exited in front of the business, tried several fans and quickly found one to my liking. The testing and negotiating took ten minutes. I told the merchant I would be back but he looked skeptical. The look of surprise on his face when I came back thirty minutes later was priceless. I wonder how many people tell merchants “I’ll be back”?
Carried our fourth fan home on the bus. It has proven to be a great success and is now the official bedroom fan. The next time I need a new BFF, I will be taking the bus to the El Rey Del Aire on Peru.
No one I believe knows why Forrest Gump decided to stop running. I had a Forrest Gump moment recently. I decided to get my hair cut for the first time in three and a half years. Perhaps there was some subliminal messaging involved. As you leave Old Town into Centro, the bus turns right onto Juarez and heads straight for “Jerry’s Barber Shop” before sharply turning the wheels and swinging the bus around the narrow corner.
When I made the decision to cut my hair, I found myself in Centro, walking the one-way street in reverse until I found Jerry’s. I was the only customer and Jerry asked if I wanted beer or water. Hoping to influence the guy who was going to cut my hair, I ordered water. Jerry’s English was good, and after many questions on his part, I believed he was somewhat sure how short I wanted it (No brush cut or shave, but I didn’t want to be going back every three years for another cut). He attempted to get his music going, alas, no Wifi. He commenced cutting while I calmly held my water. A friend of his came in and solved the Wifi issue. First time I’ve had a haircut while the barber sings along to rap music with his scissors snipping away.
Everyone, including me, seems to like my hair. The next time the urge strikes for a haircut, I will be taking the bus to Jerry’s Barber Shop on Juarez.